Domain of Glass: Into The Dark
by DarkForgiveness
Summary: Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area...
1. Chapter 1

I've always wanted to write something like this for one of my favourite pairings and I'm glad I sat down and did it. It took me about a week to finish this and I'm quite proud of this.

**Title:** Into the Dark

**Fandom:** Transformers

**Continuity:** G1

**Pairing:** Jazz x Prowl

**Rating:** NC - 17

**Summary:** Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...

**Warnings:** Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers, smut, explicit explanation of first time. Don't think this counts as dubcon but there is influence of aphrodisiacs on an innocent.

Chapter Notes:

Nanoklik - 1 second

Klik - 1 minute

Breem - 8 minutes

Joor - 1 Hour

Cycle 18 Hours

Orn - Day

Metacycle - 6 years

Vorn - 83 years

"..." Talking

**"..."** Comm. line

_Thoughts_ or_ Emphasis_ on a word

~...~ Medical Hardline

_**::Sweetspark::**_ Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union

Extra note, I placed Wheeljack and Ratchet as Prowl's creators for the fun of exploring a new angle to the story. Besides I think having Prowl as a twin of Bluestreak is cute and having Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as older brothers will explain their teasing in the series. Prowl may be OOC in this story but remember he is basically just out of his youngling frame ― he's still very young and innocent.

Depending on the response to this oneshot there may be a sequel.

Well that's all the notes I can think of for now, thanks for reading.

* * *

"Come forth my fellow mechs, come forth and lend me your audios. For this orn I will tell you of the secrets that ravage the lands of Cybertron. The secrets that younglings were protected against and young mechs were never warned about. In the days that Vector Sigma still ruled the lands of Desperation and Darkness. The Fallen Lands of Kaon. Nemesis Prime, Lord High Protector Vos and the founder of the Illegal Sciences: Gama Spire were rulers that forced Cybertron into the Dark Ages; they were also the ones that brought the darkness to our streets. There was the discovery that amongst us walked those who lived with the Curse... A Curse brought to these lands by failed experiments and innocent sparks―."

Prowl, a noble mech from the High Towers of Praxus, sat with his doorwings against the back wall of the Energon Bar ― hiding his vulnerability as best he could. He was now in the Dark Parts, _the_ most dangerous part of Cybertron without his beloved carrier there to comfort his uncertainty. Only half of his audio was listening to the story that the minstrel mech was spinning in the background. The rest of his attention was fixed on his cube of high grade. He sipped at the potent Energon, grimacing at the taste. He had yet to get used to it. The electrifying tang lighted across his glossa before it slid stutteringly down his intakes, Prowl shuddered at the feeling let out a low hum of displeasure. He could never understand how his Carrier loved the stuff.

His immaculately sown travellers cloak was rubbing against his doorwings when he fluttered them out of distress. The sensation of the cloak against his doorwings was pleasantly welcome, the material was warming his armour satisfyingly and efficiently when a gust of cold wind was admitted through the newly opened doors of the Energon Bar. Light blue optics snapped up at the entrance of the mech and the young Praxian gave small welcoming smile. Wishing again that Carrier Ratchet hadn't needed to attend a Medical Conference a few decikilometres from here. He really could use the support of one of his creators; he was barely out of his youngling frame and his innocence was well known...

"Lord Prowl?" Said mech nodded in affirmation, his doorwings giving another flutter that went mostly unseen by others. Gesturing for the mech a few kliks older than him to join him ― Prowl fought hard to contain his distress and fear from observing optics. It was easy to slip on his high society facade when it was strictly business but when it became personal Prowl found hiding his emotions was a lot more difficult than he thought possible.

"I'm Bluestreak! When I received your summons I was surprised that you would want to meet me. I mean it's not like I was expecting it but it was a bit unexpected. I'm just a plain merchant mech I don't know why you would want to see me. It's rare to see a noble in the Dark Parts though; especially one of your standing I ―."

"Hush Bluestreak, have a seat." Prowl smiled indulgently at his guest, one again motioning for him to join the table. Prowl could feel his uneasiness being expressed by the rigidness of his doorwings when the younger of the two of them slid into an empty seat. When he felt a touch of comfort drift across his Creator-Creation Union with Ratchet Prowl immediately relaxed a bit more. Gratitude drifting back through the connection as an answering message.

"You should be careful here in these parts Lord Prowl. It's dangerous, those who walk the night are haunting our streets and threatening to destroy our peace, they hunt nobles specifically the ones that are considered part of the Royal Caste and the Counc―" Bluestreak was once again hushed softly by Prowl's raised servo for silence. Prowl couldn't afford to scare the young mech off, no a youngling late in his stages of development, just like him. His split spark twin he reminded himself harshly. Bluestreak was important to the kin, to their House and most importantly to _him_...

"I know of the dangers of me travelling here;" Prowl gave a small smile of reassurance. His spark jumping happily at his other half. "Carrier and Sire are only several decikilometres away from here. They're _my_ protectors beloved Bluestreak just as I am _their_ creation. That however has little relevance as to why I'm here Bluestreak."Prowl smiled at his newly discovered brother. He had been searching for vorns upon agonizing vorns with his creators and had never found any leads to his older twin but now that he had found him, Prowl felt happy. The empty hole in his spark rejoicing at the newly found contact with his lost twin. Being the youngest of his creators four creations Prowl hand always been lonely and when Bluestreak had been stolen from their shared berth as a several orn old sparkling Prowl had been shattered, his emotional growth stunted and socially awkward. It had taken several hundred vorns in tracing down Bluestreak only to find that his brother had been taken into the working class side of Cybertron. The place where nobles should never be taken. It is said to be where most of them disappeared never to be seen again.

Even if this trip caused him harm Prowl was happy he got to at least meet his older brother again. The one he shared so much with but knew so little from; they were the sparklings of the family and also the second set of twins. He was the youngest and only Sunstreaker actually had the right to be called a Lord. Although Prowl was a Carrier like Ratchet and his presence in the Dark Parts was even more risky, he was extremely happy that Carrier Ratchet had allowed him to come along and venture off to meet his brother that orn. Knowing that his carrying status and Ratchet's over protective Creator protocols had nearly prevented this.

Taking another sip of his high grade; Prowl forced himself to relax with a vented sigh. A servo rested across his spark chamber in a gesture of self comfort and protection ― something he had picked up from his Sire. No other mech really understood that symbolic touch but Prowl knew they didn't usually meet Praxian mechs so it was understandable. He had found his split spark twin, a bond which had been silent and half broken his entire existence. His processor was getting faint just from thinking about it.

"Bluestreak I'm here to take you home." Prowl could no longer hold back his own intentions, his servo reached forward for Bluestreak's as he cupped the younger mech's servo within his ― his desperate yearning for touch shooting across his emotional programming. Placing a gentle kiss on Bluestreak's servo joints in a promise of rebuilding their brotherhood.

"I've finally found you my beloved brother. After vorns and vorns of searching with Creators; I've_ finally_ found you Bluestreak." Prowl said in a soft but emotionally uncontrolled voice. He hid his sudden sharp hurt well when Bluestreak pulled back from his touch as if he had been scolded. His doorwings drooped a tiny bit, betraying the spark deep ache that swept across him. The touch of a rejected bond. Turning light blue optics away to the side in shame. Prowl didn't want to see the disbelief and rejection reflected in his brother's optics anymore.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about L-Lord Prowl. I-I can't be your brother. I'm j-just a merchant! I-I can't be a noble. I-it's impossible! I-I'm sorry sir b-but... I-I need to go." Prowl felt his spark breaking, how was he going to prove to Bluestreak that he truly was his brother? The colour of that chevron could not be mistaken, it was the colour of _his_ House, _his_ twin. Nor could the grey and red frame be mistaken as anything but a mixture between his Carrier and Sire's frames. Feeling put out and in pain Prowl leaned back against his chair; ignoring the painful flex of his doorwings on the back of the chair. Disappointment and sense of failure spun through his processor, a palpable touch of his state. He watched with sad optics as his brother once again disappeared from his view and essentially his life; a raised servo wanting to grab hold of that last connection before his servo dropped uselessly at his side. It was done, Bluestreak was _gone_.

Severely trembling servos brought overly warm high grade to his lips components and Prowl sipped at the potent fuel; not caring that it may hurt him later. The flashes of panic and pain assaulted his processors, he had been there that night when Bluestreak had been taken. Had watched with coolant tears in his optics as he was pushed offline by his panic before his little brother was stolen from their very home never to be seen again. Until now...

Shuttering his optics against the pain and guilt he felt creeping through his systems, Prowl couldn't understand why this was affecting him more than he thought it would. In a moment of fear and uncertainty Prowl couldn't help but reach across his bond with Ratchet ― just to make sure he was lovable and not a stoic puppet of emotionally stunted growth. The moment he reached out across the bond it flared and was opened fully. He could feel his Carrier's concern flood through his systems in a touch of relief and palpable distress. That alone was enough to make Prowl relax and let down his emotional walls. Love, the love only his Creator carried for him, the feeling of utter belonging.

_**::Prowl? Sweetspark? What's the matter?::**_ Ratchet's voice drifted across their Union and Prowl felt himself stiffen again, his doorwings hiking up into a sharp V at the love that flooded the bond. A tinge of pink stretched across his faceplates in embarrassment that he accepted Carrier's love so easily. He couldn't show any outward change, it was improper and Prowl fought hard to reign in his wayward emotions. The calming emotions that flooded through him made Prowl's doorwings flutter a bit before they settled into a more comfortable position on their hinges. Ratchet always had a calming effect on him; he no longer cared that the back of his optics were beginning to sting with the signs of coolant tears.

_**::He left Carrier Ratchet, I don't know what to do to convince him...::**_ Prowl schooled his outside appearance to look stoic and uninterested but it was faltering. His happy little world was falling to pieces, his spark was I pain and his intakes hitched because of it. He always showed emotion to his family but that orn Prowl was truly afraid. He was barely out of his own youngling frame, he wasn't ready for this kind of strain. His spark wasn't ready. Another deep sigh travelled through his intakes as Prowl finished the last of his high grade with a large gulp.

_**::We have a lot of time to get him back Sweetspark. Now get to your Inn my love; I can feel your exhaustion. I'll be there next orn.::**_ Prowl nodded, his body suddenly feeling heavy and out of place. His pedesteps swaying slightly at the exertion but he dutifully ignored his spinning processor. It wasn't uncommon since the last twelve decaorns of adjusting to his new frame. Yet, the feeling of wanting to suddenly purge was something new. Shuddering at the feeling Prowl tried to keep himself from sinking to his knees in despair. The rejection he felt against his twin bond was now very painful. Prowl was unused to rejection on spark level and not even his Carrier's gentle pulses over their bond could stop it.

_**::Recharge Prowl, it'll only do you good. I'll help you convince Bluestreak of his identity once I get there.:: **_Prowl nodded solemnly, his connection with Ratchet had always been much stronger than with his Sire as Prowl knew that their Carrying capabilities made their bond almost unbreakable. Carrier Ratchet and Sire Wheeljack had never shown him any rejection and the new emotion he felt himself dealing with was _exhausting_.

_**::Okay Carrier, I'll go back to my Inn for some recharge. But don't you forget to refuel.::**_ Prowl reminded the obsessive Medic. Prowl came to a stopping just outside the Energon Bar to admire the expanse of the stars glittering above him. His Carrier indigent huff made a small smile curl across his lip plates, he wasn't stupid and could feel his Carrier's own system exhaustion. Prowl tilted his helm upwards to admire the skies he so rarely got to see in their full glory. His travelling cloak swayed in the slight breeze, the cold of the evening air spilling across his frame and wracking a shiver through his body.

_**::Peaceful Recharge, Sweetspark. I'll see you soon.::**_ Prowl nodded and sent back the same sentiment. His gratitude the last thing drifting across their bond before he gradually closed it. He knew that Ratchet was still busy at the conference and didn't wish to disturb his Creator anymore than his over fraught emotions already had. So instead of locking his emotions away Prowl closed the bond tightly and locked it for the time being, now his Carrier wouldn't feel his emotions and he could allow them to fester in his processors. Something Carrier Ratchet always warned against but Prowl never obeyed when he got like this.

The feeling of his energy reserves suddenly draining left Prowl sitting on a patch of crystal grass unsteadily. His processor refused to stop sending mixed signals across his motor function, all Prowl could do was hope and wait for it to pass. The foreign feelings making him shiver in terror, could someone have done something? His arms folding across his spark chamber in mimic of how his creators often used calmed him when younger. Heat crept across his circuits and built a painful charge that was attacking his Battle Computer and swept as a deep ache across his CPU. Prowl whined, his helm clutched in his servos.

Why did it feel as if something was terribly wrong with him? Even his advanced Battle Computer was having a tough time not shutting down at the sudden exhaustion and pain ripping across his spark. Making sure that his bond with Ratchet was shut tight against his sudden influx of pain, Prowl pulled his knee joints closer to his abdomen and rested his chevron against his knees. A soft cry left his lips, it was searing through his Energon lines. The curled position he now found himself in was causing more of that uncomfortable heat to spread through his systems and ignite a feeling he had yet to ever experience. Shaking his helm to try and clear the sensation Prowl frowned deeply, it was almost as if a haze had settled across his processor and he couldn't do anything to dislodge the sensations that crept across his systems. The pain was unbearable when his spark was calling out for the twin bond to be completed but that nightly orn it felt a bit worse than before. A low moan erupted from his vocalizer as he brought his pedes closer to his body, his entire form was trembling at the sudden influx of uneasiness. Uneasiness he didn't want his Carrier to find out about.

"Am I truly so unlovable? What have I ever done wrong Primus?" Prowl mumbled uncertainly, wincing when the pain in his spark grew more intense. The sheer _force_ of the feeling that was slamming across his sensor net forced Prowl to offline optics, his sensitivity to light was now searing an cache across his processors that he had yet to ever feel. However it was the excruciating heat of a building electrified charge that flitted across his internal systems that left Prowl feeling unsteady and pure terror. His equilibrium was failing him, his spark was tearing itself apart and his emotional programming was on a fritz. A crash was imminent and the uncomfortable feeling was already slamming across his circuits. A single thought raced through Prowl's processor, utter shock and pure panic following his realization. Could it really be?

A whining keen spilled from his vocalizer, the sensations racing across his processor was worse than before. A sudden cry erupted into the night air ―he had been _drugged_.

_**::CARRIER RATCHET!::**_

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl onlined to skittering sensation of gentle touches running across his sensitive plating. The touches were so soothing and gentle that Prowl's pounding spark slowed to a more gentle pulse of acceptance. Who was touching him so lovingly? His back struts were pressed against very soft berth coverings and he arched into the touches slightly; his processor had yet to have caught up to his situation. Prowl wasn't sure if he should be panicking or relaxing, those touches were not something he had ever felt before. The conflicted signals were close to sending him into another painful processor crash. Prowl shuddered heavily when servos trailed across his helm and teased his red chevron; a small moan flitted from his vocalizer.

"W-Who?" Prowl felt panic starting to affect his body as an indication from his static lined vocalizer. His spark was fighting with him even now as his processor decided that the touch was welcome. He automatically pressed into the touch ― disillusioned that it was his only a gentle touch.

_**::Carrier? R-Ratchet? W-what's going on?::**_ Prowl wailed with an internal sob. Dimmed optics finally cycled open and immediately Prowl started when a bright blue visor of another mech invaded his vision. Prowl's intakes hitched as he flinched back from the touch skating across his chest plates. The movement and sudden realization of what was happening caused a rush of pain through his CPU as his Battle Computer warred with his logic. He was being molested, molested by an unknown mech. Oh Primus! Was he going to be violated? A whimper of static passed through his vocalizer.

His spark now once again hiking up in its pulse, the sudden fear that slammed through him was pressing against the Creator-Creation Union he had closed before, desperately seeking comfort. A whine of pure terror escaped his vocalizer when those touches got closer to his most intimate interface equipment. The next touch was against his extremely sensitive doorwings and Prowl couldn't help but lean into the touch, even when he tried to keep telling himself he didn't want this. That seemed to snap his Battle Computer out of its haze and dimmed, frightened optics took in the room where he now found himself in. It was lighted dimly, that was one thing that his captor was considerate about. The dull ache in his processor could have been a lot worse with the increase of light. The light itself was only coming from several lit crystal candles and a small roaring ion fire in the hearth; the smell was heady and also comforting. Prowl thrashed under the touches when he felt his strength begin to return. When Prowl started to shift off of the soft berth he soon felt strong servos pushing him back onto the soft coverings. With his processor spinning wildly Prowl didn't know if he should scream and give up or fight back...

"Lay back, mech. Ya've been out o' it for sev'ral breems." Prowl wanted to bite, claw and scratch his was free against those strong servos holding him down but now that he managed to assess his systems with a simple diagnostic scan it told him a foreign substance was working through his Energon lines. It was causing his motor functions to cease listening to his commands, it also forcibly was onlineing his interface protocols. Protocols that had been locked away...

Screaming errors scrolled across his HUD display. His Energon pump was over taxed, hence the rapid spark pulse he felt and the heat building through his inner circuits. That in turn made Prowl's systems very unstable and highly sensitive to small touches. Calling out to Carrier Ratchet again Prowl felt pain spike though his spark when his bond seemed to remain closed and unresponsive.

"Nggh! W-wha―." A clawed finger pressed against his lip components, the sensual touch did not go unnoticed by Prowl. He had been warned against things like this. The mech's free servo lifted to tease his red chevron gently and against his best wishes Prowl was slow relaxing and even welcoming the touch.

"Feelin' a bit better now?" The voice was gentle, the accent lilting and Prowl nodded. The intimate touch set Prowl's Energon lines on fire with artificially induced desire. That's when he felt it, the sudden terror exploding across his body and slamming against his Creation bond. Prowl whimpered; his sensor net was enveloped in one that was calm and reassuring. Those skating touches were meant to both calm and arouse him. Where was his reassuring bond with his Carrier? Why was it so hard to get through? Prowl could only feel the barest of a touch across their bond and it was closed so tightly that he wasn't sure that even his frantic and explosive emotions could get across the bond now. It wasn't working as it should.

"Hush litt'e mech. Some idiot glitch fed ya narcotics and lef' ya to fend fer yerself. The effects 're still rav'ging ya systems. It won' fade if ya don' lay still or it'll only get worse. The more ya move the more tha' aphrod'siac 's spread'ng." Prowl balked at the words, realization hitting his systems and his fuel tanks were seeking to purge its contents. Prowl then uncharacteristically arched into the touch of the stranger when sly clawed fingers traced his sensitive neck cabling. Prowl was stopped from screaming bloody murder in his terror when he suddenly relaxed completely. His spark was winging in its chest, happy that the touches were to gentle and caring. No one had cared for him like this except his Creators.

"W-who are you? W-what happened?" Prowl asked near the edge of external hysteria, his vocalizer had nearly ceased completely. Screw his stoicism, this wasn't the time to act like he had no emotions. The sudden flare of an uncomfortable heat surge spread across his circuits and the Praxian noble flinched inwardly and outwardly. The shushing noises of his comforter settled his systems again. Being stubborn Prowl ignored the mech's advice and forced himself into a sitting position; his doorwings scraping painfully against the wall behind the berth. He hid his pain very well.

"Ya can call meh Jazz. Who're ya litt'e noble?" The accent whispered across Prowl's audios pleasantly as Jazz ignored his attempt at escape and leaned closer to Prowl's now sitting form. Plopping down on the berth next to Prowl, Jazz hummed a hauntingly familiar lullaby. His servos gentle but never stopping in their ministrations. Prowl felt a heated blush of embarrassment spread across his cheek plates; only now realizing the compromising situation he found himself in. Turning his head to the side in shame Prowl tried again to push _hard_ against his bond with his Carrier, he had no idea what to do in a situation like this. All Prowl knew was that he needed to get into contact with Ratchet but he was so ashamed at what had happened and what needed to happen. He had always hoped that his first would be th―.

"Answer litt'e mech. Focus! Ah ain't gonna hurt ya or take ya against yer will..."

"P-Prowl."

"Ah see, well Prowler ya shoulda stayed 'way from this place. The Curs'd Ones 'ave been after nobles fer vorns Prowler. Ah also see ya ain't listening ta me abou' keepin' still. Ya're going ta _hav'_ ta get rid of the charge building in yer circuits before ya fry. Is yer lover close by?" Prowl shivered as another arc of charge fritzed across his systems, the feeling foreign but not entirely unpleasant. The mech's voice was so smooth and convincing that Prowl ― against his wishes ― leaned into his touch.

"N-no. C-Carrier is though; h-he's sixty d-decikilometres away." Prowl managed to get out before a long and low moan erupted from his vocalizer as Jazz's claw like fingers pinched a sensitive cable across his neck. Jazz nodded and enjoyed the fleeting trust that was building between them. Prowl was surprised when he saw understanding swirling in the depths of that attractive visor, this mech knew what he going through. The gentle soothing touches stopped as the saboteur pulled away. His back turned on Prowl in a show of trust in showing a random mech his most vulnerable spot and also gave Prowl some privacy. Prowl was stunned his vocalizer stuttering a small sound he wasn't even sure he could make himself.

"Contact yer Carrier Prowler and talk ta him. He needs ta know and Ah need ta help ya, it can't keep build'ng like tha' it'll fry yer circuits." Prowl managed a faint nod, a hiss escaping his vocalizer when another surge shot through his circuits. A cube of midgrade was pushed into his servos as Jazz smiled at him. That smile curling into a satisfied smirk when he saw Prowl glare at the cube in suspicion.

"It ain't poisoned, Prowler." Jazz teased his guest. "That aphrod'siac is mufflin' yer bond. Try harder to reach 'im. Ah'll be 'way fer a few kliks so ya can come ta a decision." Prowl nodded, bringing the cube to his olfactory sensors to sniff at the contents. His actions got a small musical chuckle from Jazz and Prowl relaxed. The taste was the same as any fine mid grade and Prowl hummed in pleasure, this was the part that always gave away his age. He liked the softer mixes of Energon.

After the door hissed shut Prowl found himself alone in the large room. Heeding Jazz's words he started fiddling with his Creator-Creation bond in earnest. Trying twice as hard to force open the link. A sharp pain erupted through his spark and Prowl cried out softly when he felt something give inside of him; the rejection of Bluestreak shattering his comfort. Gripping at his spark chamber Prowl found his servo scratching at his chest plates absently in hopes of relieving some of the pain now spreading through him. The sudden snap of the bond had both his spark and processor reeling at the same time. The sensation made his processors giddy and his tanks threatened to purge again.

_**::P-P-r-wl?::**_ The reply that snapped across his bond was fuzzy and difficult to discern. Prowl found it even more difficult to form an even reply through the haze of pain. The sudden influx of his pain from his spark chamber shot through the bond and Prowl tried to hold it back but his control had completely slipped. Now even more guilt washed across his strange emotions; he didn't want Carrier Ratchet to feel his pain in such a way.

_**::C-C-ca-rr-er!::**_

_**::PROWL? Wh-t's g-g-oin-g o-n?::**_ Another gasp travelled from Prowl as he fought to dampen the suddenly open bond. His Carrier's sudden worry and terror was making this worse for him than it should be.

_**::R-Ratch? -ot dru-g-ed. A-Aph-odi-iac.::**_ Prowl winced when something started pushing at their bond again, it was threatening to snap. Fighting with the sensations rushing through him and the bond Prowl felt torn and afraid now. He was so hopeless, there was nothing more he could do...

_**::Frag Prowl! -on't be a-le to get to you in, da-n it al to Pits! Pr-w-w-l! N-e-d to interface R-I-I-GH-T now. ―uilt -ch-a-rge -urt y-y-ou. K-kill y-u..::**_

_**::C-C-arier!::**_

_**::No Prowl! Ca-n-t l-los y-yo P-rr-w-l ! M-dic-l o-rd-r. Be th-re as s-oo-n as I can.::**_ The connection slammed shut abruptly from interference and Prowl screamed his Carrier's name across the now useless bond. There was no answer for him, his Carrier hadn't given him a solution to the problem...

For the first time in vorns Prowl felt totally helpless, the burden of his first interface hanging on his shoulder and his inexperience was making this worse. Tears of bright blue coolant gathered in his optics, the emotions amplified by the pain and heat that kept rising. His cooling fans had already kicked in and the last scrambled words over their bond left Prowl feeling everything more intensely. Ratchet had practically ordered him to interface, but who? Who would knowing that he was inexperienced, pure of spark and affected more by this aphrodisiac than they would ever know?

Another flash of hopelessness charged across his emotional core and Prowl let out a single wail of anguish, nearly doubling over when his spark decided to torture his already over fraught emotions.

The plop, plop, plop of his helpless tears falling onto his own armour was the only sound in the room besides his hitching intakes and the crackling of a crystal fire.

"J-Jazz? Jazz?" Prowl called out tentatively; hoping that his silent plea in those words was heard. Wishing that it was understood.

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz waited outside the door, one pede pulled up to his knee joint to rest against the wall behind him. Leaning with his back against the smooth metal he contemplated what he was about to do. Damn it! It had been hundreds of stellar cycles since he had come online, he was one of the late successors of the Spec Ops of Kaon. An almost perfect agent as the professor that designed his programming claimed. He was also the last to still carry the curse of silent assassination. He carried his own guilt and shame to last more than his entire eternal life because of that. Biting his bottom lip plate he tuned his highly sensitive audios to the sounds inside the room he had left mere kliks ago. He hated the fact that he had to soil another innocent, hated that there was nothing he could have done to have stopped this from happening sooner.

He could hear every little whimper and whine of fear that Prowl made; a melodically sound he wanted to bottle and never let go. Just as his spark was dancing in its casing the moment he had laid optics on the young Praxian. The scent of Prowl still clung to his servos from where he touched Prowl, it was just as intoxicating as the first time he smelt the distinctive scent. Pure, sweet and a sharp smell of ion; it was both innocence and the underlying scent of a rare Carrier.

Jazz had spotted the Praxian when he passed by the bar purely by accident. This plane of the Dark Parts was _his_ hunting territory and the young mech had been laying on the crystal glass like a perfect meal spread just for him. Prowl's form was curled in on himself, trembling and shivering with the excess of too much spark energy and the distinctive _feel_ of potent aphrodisiac curling around his form. Jazz snarled at the one who would dare feed a mech of such standing such a potent mix. The Praxian was barely settled into his first adult frame and one never gave it to them, they were so innocent. Jazz wanted to dig his claws into the one who had given an aphrodisiac to a Carrier as well, somemech had wanted to make the youngling a breeder. That alone could have caused the young mech to seize and his spark to fade completely. After a trauma such as this a Carrier could be damaged enough that they would never be able to carry a sparklet of their own.

Cursing his pure spark and need to protect the more vulnerable of mechs; Jazz pulled the smaller frame into his arms and carried him towards his home. He was contemplating just leaving Prowl there whilst he went on a rage spree but something stopped him. Compassion and sympathy flooded through him as Jazz looked upon those pained features; Prowl was calling out to him, begging for help and acceptance. Jazz's spark couldn't refuse. A harsh tug at his spark that wanted nothing more than to help in every way he could. Plus that sweet scent of innocence was grounding him completely; he wanted to claim Prowl for his own and never let him go.

"Man, just wha' did ya get yerself into Jazz." The saboteur admonished himself, his helm resting against the wall and his sensitive sensory horns trained on the room behind him. He knew he wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone but he couldn't help it. He wanted Prowl. He was well aware of what that drug did to mechs with a Praxian frame, he had seen it firsthand even and Jazz didn't mind that he was helping but he would be stupid if he hadn't noticed the terror in those optics and the fear Prowl displayed when he had onlined. Plus the little noble was both a new adult and a Carrier. He had hoped that Prowler had at least someone he could trust to help him with this but he had been wrong, only a Carrier that was too far away to comfort and help the young mech.

A sigh drifted from his vents tiredly; there was no way he was going to be able to feed from this one. Not that he needed to feed yet but the mere thought of having Prowl writhing beneath his form was enough to send his processor into pure lust and not only for claiming the smaller mech. Those doorwings were just as graceful and expressive as the rest of Prowl; a side which Jazz was sure not many mechs ever got to see.

_'Jazz...'_ The sound of his name falling from those innocent lip plates had Jazz growling lowly and possessively. Pure lust racing up his spinal struts and threatening to overwhelm him completely at the mere thought of Prowl spread beneath him driven by lust and want. Snapping his attention back to the room with a jerk of his helm, Jazz realized that the breathy whisper of his name hadn't been his imagination. Another uncertain call of his designation had Jazz opening the door before he stepped inside.

Anticipation. Lust. Possessive Instinct. Innocence. Jazz shivered as innocent optics were one of the few insane things that greeted him inside. One observation from his visor told him that Prowl had come to a decision and the way those beautiful blue optics were looking everywhere but him told Jazz the type of decision that had been made. The heated Energon flush on those beautifully arched cheek plates was also telling enough, Jazz smiled. Prowl knew what he wanted but was afraid to ask for it and ashamed to admit to it. That was ok, Jazz wasn't here to ridicule the Praxian, he was here to help. With tentative and careful steps Jazz moved closer; his pedesteps light and unthreatening as if he was approaching a wounded turbofox. It just wouldn't do to scare Prowl now, it would break the little trust he was now being granted with. The younger mech was placing all his trust in a stranger and Jazz would make sure that he didn't betray that fickle feeling. In a gentle move Jazz curled his left servo over Prowl's dropped chin and nudged his faceplates upwards.

"Look at meh, Prowler." Jazz implored gently; shivering when those beautiful blue optics flashed beautifully. Prowl was trembling beneath his fingers, swiping his servo joint across wet lip plates Jazz whispered words of comfort and reassurance. Visor and optics collided in a show of understanding, acceptance, respect and tenderness. Jazz flashed a reassuring smile to the young noble mech and leaned closer.

"Ya need ta relax Prowler. Tensin up ain't gonna help ya, it'll only make it worse. Ah ain't gonna hurt ya, Ah promise." Running a finger beneath Prowl's optic Jazz collected a stray coolant tear before capturing another one that fell afterwards. Seeing Prowl so distressed and visibly shaken prompted Jazz to hum a soothing tone. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of that gleaming red chevron Jazz scooted Prowl forward with firm but careful servos. Slipping in behind Prowl, Jazz settled there, his chin component now resting on black and white shoulder plates.

"Shhh, relax Prowler." Jazz soothed, sly servos skimmed across sensitive neck cabling before hooking around the intricate buckle of Prowl's travelling cloak. Placing a chaste kiss on a delicate audio Jazz released the catch quickly. The soft material pooled in his lap before Jazz let it fall to the floor. A slight smirk decorated Jazz features as he pulled Prowl flush against his chest plates. Chuckling when those doorwings brushed against his chest in an exciting and nervous flutter. Jazz hummed encouraging, allowing his servos to travel over sensitive plating and doorwing panels. Jazz enjoyed the way those graceful doorwings pressed into his touch for a firmer caress. Jazz indulged his lover; his engine purring with excitement at Prowl's frame heating more at his ministrations

"Ah! W-Why...h-he-help m-me... Nggh...Jaaazzz!"Prowl moaned loudly. Jazz hummed pleasantly at Prowl's reaction as his claws dug into sensitive hinges. Allowing his glossa to snake out and trail over a warm audial component he chuckled when Prowl's cheek plates flushed a deeper pink. Dropping his voice an octave to purr seductively, Jazz encouraged Prowl to enjoy himself.

"Don' hold back, Prowler. Yer voice 's beautiful just like the rest of ya." Prowl keened, his vocalizer crackling with static.

Prowl squirmed when he was pulled more firmly into Jazz's lap; all the sensation was _so_ new to him ― so pleasurable and he never wanted it to stop. Sharp claws dug into his door panels and Prowl yowled at the sudden influx of pain and pleasure, back struts arching more into the touch rather than pulling away from the pain. He never expected the mixture of sensations to feel so good. Prowl keened in want, Jazz really knew how to work him into a frenzy.

Whining loudly Prowl shuddered when those teasing touches and chaste kisses turned more intentional and more explorative. It was also causing his plating to ignite in an uncomfortable heat of a static charge, his internals felt like they were slowly fritzzing with the same treatment. It was barely several kliks that Prowl was in Jazz's presence and his HUD was already displaying new protocols that his interface panel was requesting his catch release. He overrode the code afraid of the pain he knew would come with his first interfacing session.

Prowl jumped slightly in fright when Jazz's claw like servo traced the transformer's seam of his interface panel. Jazz's other servo teased his headlights and the dips and swells of his sensitive bumper as a distraction in offering Prowl more time to get used to the intimate feeling. The warnings flashing across his HUD caused a small noise of distress to spill from Prowl's vocalizer.

"Nahah!" Prowl yelped when sharp denta nibbled along a sensitive Energon cable on his neck components. The influx of sensation sent Prowl's intakes hitching painfully and his cooling fans whining loudly. His own servos scrambled against Jazz's white thighs to try and ground himself from the helpless feeling that spread across his processor. He had to fight with his logic at the loss of control and it was unduly causing him some pain now just as the heat across his circuits was making Prowl squirm in Jazz's lap.

"Tell meh 'bout yer Carrier." That deep seductive purr reverberated across Prowl's audial and he arched back. His doorwings now trembling as the strange sensation of a heavy charge settle across his internals. His servos were scratching the saboteur's paint as Prowl fought an internal battle with himself.

"W-Why J-Jazz?" Prowl managed through his pleasure hazed processor. Jazz's engine rumbled directly against Prowl's doorwings and the vibrating movement caused a cry to erupt from Prowl.

"'Cause Prowler, I want ta know who I'm goin' te have te deal with later." Jazz purred into Prowl's audial, sly lip components curling around the end of a gleaming red chevron before sucking the sensor rich appendage listlessly. The reaction he got nearly had Jazz losing his own tight rein on his control. Jazz moaned softly at the mere thought of burying his spike in that virgin valve. His own plating was heating up uncomfortably. With Prowl leaning against his frame so submissively and mewling in his pleasure was making Jazz run hot. It was the look of pure abandonment on those innocent features that caused a possessive growl to rise in his vocalizer. His soothing humming had now stopped to be replaced with hitching intakes and hums of encouragement. Jazz was taking his time exploring Prowl's unusually sensitive frame.

"Ghah! J-Jazz! P-p-please!" Jazz had to fight hard with his instinctive programming to not pin Prowl to the berth and ravaging him so completely that Prowl forgot everything but his designation.

"Tell meh 'bout yer Carrier." The sudden demand made it more difficult for Prowl to focus, his processor was split between the pleasure he was feeling and the subtle terror that streaked across his emotional core.

"H-he's the H-head M-Medic for the...Nggh...P-Praxian H-hospital. G-g-entle b-but understanding, p-p-protective! Ghah! Jazz! Please!" Prowl found that his begging was ignored and clever fingers pinched his thigh plating teasingly; Prowl arched back ― he was sure his black and white paint was now stained with transfers from Jazz. Forcing him to continue. "I-I'm h-his y-youngest! y-youngest of t-two sets of s-s-plit s-spark twins!" Prowl tried his best to sum up everything that Jazz asked but Jazz's more intimate touches against his interface panel was making it difficult to gain his senses back to himself. His EM field was pulsing wildly against Jazz's more controlled pleasured one. It was a processor dizzying experience for Prowl. No one had ever gotten him to be so revved up from only tactile contact.

"So beautiful Prowler."

"Mfffhp!" Prowl's surprise was muffled when his helm was yanked back by his chevron and lips covered his own, a glossa pushing into his mouth made Prowl squirm at the uncomfortable angle. Prowl moaned into the intimate kiss, it was dominating, gentle and also _very_ arousing. All his thoughts and convictions about the situation faded by the sudden rush of a charge across his circuits. Prowl's optics shuttered of their own violation as his glossa was pulled into play, the strokes and caresses of Jazz's own glossa was making mewls of pleasure slip from his vocalizer. He wanted more. More of that crippling pleasure...Sensor nodes lighted up against his door panels as sly servos slid against the panels with a magnetic pulse.

After a klik of the intense sensations Prowl's tense doorwings slumped to a more accepting and relaxed position; the tense cabling in his neck released and a swarm of different sensations streaked across his circuits. His interface panel was overheating with his pure _need_. When a claw like finger traced across the white panel and tapped at it suggestively ― Prowl nearly screamed when the tactile sensations became just _too_ much. Sparks of a blue charge arched across his armour plating; his panel slid open without his consent. The strange feeling of lubricant leaked from beneath his valve seal made Prowl mewl and arch back. Heat spread across his Energon lines in embarrassment and anticipation. Prowl cried out when his internal components were overwhelmed with pleasure induced charges that made him go rigid in pure unadulterated bliss. Prowl cried out a muffled scream into Jazz's mouth. A glossa retracting from his mouth component and now ravaging his red chevron pushed Prowl over the edge. A silent scream echoed in Prow's audial, the heat dispersing across his plating made Prowl's entire frame erupt in heat and a pleasantly overwhelming static tingle.

"Ya're doin' good Prowler, ya need ta let go of the charges as they come but don' tense up. Yer interfacin' systems needs ta be overwhelmed 'fore the aphrod'siac _really_ starts ta set in. The more charge ya disperse now, the less it'll 'urt later." Prowl barely heard Jazz, his own engine gave a satisfied hum and whine at the delicious afterglow of his released charge. His first overload, his first tactile overload. Prowl cheek plates were flushed a deep pink now as his intakes struggled to regulate his rapid breathing. The pressure that he had felt on his spark from before seemed to lessen a bit.

"Ready fo' more Prowler?"

0oooo00oooo0

Ratchet nearly drifted off of the road with a harsh jerk of anger; his horn blaring at the grounder taking his time in front of him. He needed to get to his sparkling, his precious Prowl could be in serious danger and yet he had yet to feel more of that desperate terror from before. Tires squealed on the winding road as Ratchet rushed ahead.

Deciding that time was no longer an option, Ratchet switched on his emergency lights, red and white flashed in his own distress as Ratchet made no move to slow down. There was still two joors left before he would arrive in the small Cybertronian town situated in the Dark Parts and for Ratchet it was still too long. The pain and fear he had picked up from Prowl in their short talk was unbearable, unbearable for a Carrier to know that his creation was suffering so. His processors were already searching for the most painful form of revenge he could take against the one that gave his sparkling narcotics. He had heard rumours of what nobles were usually exposed to here in the Dark Parts and the legends of the Cursed Ones was still very much believed in but Ratchet knew better, although compelling evidence pointed to the fact that the nobles were targeted for political reasons to anger Iacon and other major cities more often than not. It was almost like they were using provocation tactics but affecting the lives of the innocent. _His_ innocent creation!

Wheeljack was already having a fit across their sparkbond; the anger was driving him insane and the palpable fear was enough to make his wheels skid across the tarmac. It wasn't helping in calming him down at all.

"Damn it all to the Pit!" Ratchet swore, hastily overtaking another grounder who occupied the road ahead of him. He didn't have time to analyze the political standpoints of torturing nobles, he was a fragging Medic for Primus' sake! Not a politician. Grumbling about the situation he now found himself in with his bondmate Ratchet just prayed to Primus that the mech that was helping Prowl would not hurt him. If he did then the Hatchet's famous temper would cause havoc through the small Cybertronian town. Starting with the one who had actually thought to feed his beloved sparklet aphrodisiacs. It was enough that Prowl was blaming himself for Bluestreak's rejection of his offer and Ratchet cringed, that was another thing he had to sort out. Prowl's split spark twin probably had no idea what his walking out on Prowl had done to the youngest of their family. If they lost their twins again because of this Ratchet would drag the Prime into this, mind you he wasn't opposed to bringing this to Optimus' attention anyways.

_**::Almost there Prowl, I'm almost there. Hang in for a few joors.:**_: Ratchet implored over the connection, not knowing if Prowl had heard him or not. He sent a pulse of calming concern through his side of the bond and hoped that Prowl would allow himself to take some comfort in what he was offering. Yet knowing his sparkling Ratchet was sure that Prowl was too stubborn to accept comfort, most likely thinking this was his own fault for some reason. A sigh vented through his system and Ratchet strained on his wheels to move faster and faster, but to him it felt as if he would never be fast enough to get to beloved in time. Another series of curses flew from his vocalizer, the whine of his sirens doing little to aid in his rush.

0oooo00oooo0

Assertive but knowing servos pressed Prowl against the berth soundly, the added feeling of restriction making the young noble arch and moan into the touch. Prowl, out of trusting habit, spread his pedes more to cradle Jazz against his pelvic plaiting. It was his acceptance of what was to come. The sensations that the unexpected touch from Jazz's servo cradling his helm made was enough for Prowl to dim his optics and purr in comfort. Only Jazz's lazy smile and blue visor was what he was able to make out now. His still sealed interface components rubbing against Jazz's closed interface panel was pleasurable in its own way and just when Prowl's embarrassment heightened and he was about to close his open panel Jazz hushed him and pressed a comforting kiss to his chevron. Prowl moaned and squirmed slightly under the ministration.

"So beautiful Prowl, Ah want ya all ta m'self." Prowl moaned when Jazz slid a glossa over his chin and teased the corner of his lip plates. Prowl found his lips parted despite his internal protests, the slick feeling of a passionate kiss wiped about all of Prowl's misgiving about kissing and being intimate. With the way that Jazz kissed, the young noble tactician couldn't help but give in to the fight for dominance. With his interface panel still open, white thighs shimmering in a sheen of silvery blue lubricant of his own release a mere breem before left the saboteur in a desperate desire for more. No, Jazz found himself coveting the young Praxian noble so much that he was considering baring his spark.

"Drink litt'e Swee'spark." Jazz crooned when those dim optics trained on him. He could see the exhaustion that the narcotics were causing and he frowned in sympathy. The Kaon native sighed and pressed a cube of mid grade into Prowl's servos, motioning for him to drink it. It would keep the Praxian's systems from overtaxing themselves with new sensory input. His visor flashed brighter when he noticed Prowl relax into the berth more. It wouldn't counter act the narcotic but it would stall its effects for a few more kliks.

"See Prowler, tha' drug had been designed fo' inducin' as much pleasure as possible. It can ravage yer systems for an entire cycle and only hard 'facing can disperse the effects. I'm no' lyin' ta ya Prowler, somemech wanted to violate ya, rape ya and claim ya all for themselves 'fore killin' ya later. It 's _not_ a pretty drug used fer pretty intentions..." Jazz's words echoed loudly in Prowl audial receivers, his frame trembling at the implications of just what had been said. Prowl jumped at Jazz pulling him into an embrace, his doorwings fluttering nervously behind him before going rigid as the unbearable heat clouted his systems again. A muffled moan into Jazz's shoulder plating the only indication of his oncoming discomfort. Strangely enough when Prowl laid his audio against Jazz's spark chamber he felt his systems relaxing at the spark pulse so close to him. A gentle servo dishing out sensual touches against his trembling doorwings made Prowl tense up for different reasons.

"'M sorry this had ta happen ta ya Prowler, nomech deserv's somethin' like this." Prowl whined when those assured servos pushed him back against the berth, butterfly kisses so light that they were mere tickles across Prowl's sensor net made Prowl press more into Jazz. The pleasant tingle across his plating was already making him seek more of that blissful caress.

"J-Jazz? W-W-hat's happening?" Prowl chocked on his words as gentle touches became much more suggestive and when they left a burning trail of arousal in their wake. Jazz merely pressed a soothing kiss to Prowl's chevron.

"Ah need ta release yer seals otherwise tha' drug will no' fade." Prowl shivered in apprehension. "Yer interfacin' components needs ta be stimulated internally, it cannot be don' withou' breakin' the seals." The young Praxian noble knew what Jazz meant with those words and frankly the only thing he felt was apprehension and strangely excitement. He had always hoped to give his seals to someone he loved and respected, he was saving himself for that one mech but now that the choice had been taken from him Prowl whimpered. His helm turned away as shame shimmered in his optics, he didn't know how to approach this subject, he emotional growth had always been stunted. It wasn't that he didn't like Jazz, what frightened Prowl more was the fact that he wanted Jazz to have him and it wasn't the narcotics in his systems that was overwhelming him. In the end Prowl gave in to the desire flitting across his internal circuits. He gave his consent by pulling Jazz closer to him, their spark chambers scraped together pleasantly and pressed an inexperienced kiss on a sensory horn. Pulling the appendage into his mouth and swirling his glossa around the tip. The moan that it pulled from Prowl made him smile in triumph, at least he knew he could affect Jazz in the same way that the Kaon native did to him.

"Ah won' lie te ya, it's goin' te 'urt Prowler. Ah'll try 'nd start with yer spike firs', it'll ease ya into it." No matter how much Prowl wanted that digit now circling his sealed valve to sink deeper he was still being held firmly against the berth and his bucking hips were easily controlled. The loss of control made Prowl whine, the fraught ache deep inside his valve made Prowl arch into exploring servos. It was then that he became aware of the strange pressurized feeling against his spike's compartment seal. A skittering touch of a glossa against one of Prowl's headlights had Prowl yelp before pleas spilled from his vocalizer unbidden of his embarrassment. He _wanted_, _needed_ to feel more!

The initial building charge in preparation of overload was now rapidly heating his systems and it was happening much more rapidly than before. Cooling fans whirred to life and the Energon blush decorating his cheek plates darkened. Prowl's doorwings quivered against the soft berth when a clawed digit teased the seal across his valve before moving and pressing against seal across his spike. Prowl cried out inevitable when Jazz had sidled down his frame sensually and moved down to press a glossa against his spike compartment. The melodically seductive chuckle that caressed Prowl's audios caused another tremble to wrack through his systems.

"S 'nnocent litt'e Prowler. Yer goin' ta nee' ta relax now." Prowl nodded but agreeing to it and actually doing it was another story. His spark was pulsing wildly in his spark casing in anticipation, warning scrolled across his HUD. He couldn't even bring himself to scowl and frown at the endearment that Jazz had adopted since meeting him. His processor was too caught up in the latent pulses of pleasure. Prowl arched when that insistent pressure of a claw pressed into the seal more firmly. The sensor nodes were heating up inside of him and another rush of lubricant was released from a small gap in the seal around his valve. The action staining his white plaiting in more of that silvery blue lubricant.

The sight of Prowl spread so erotically in front of Jazz was enough to make his intakes hitch, he had never thought that Prowl could look so beautiful in the throes of desperate passion. He sighed contentedly when Prowl's servos began pawing at his sensory horn to provide Jazz more pleasure, not that seeing the little Praxian like this wasn't enough.

"Prowler? This needs ta happ'n naturally. Take yer time, it'll 'urt for a few astroseconds but it _will_ fade, Ah promise." Prowl was barely coherent; all he was aware of was the slow swipe of Jazz's glossa over his seal before he suckled at that barrier eagerly. Prowl keened loudly, his back struts arching painfully as his doorwings were pulled from under him in a perfect bow. The pressure behind the seal was now painful and that brought Prowl's processors crashing around him, when Jazz continued the erotic ministrations Prowl practically screamed when something inside of him crumbled. Protocols activated, programming was executed for the first time and Prowl promptly whimpered pitifully when he felt the tear. In a flash of pain and slight relief Prowl's spike released for the first time.

"'S beautiful jus' like the res' of ya." Jazz purred and Prowl shuddered pleasantly when Jazz nuzzled his newly revealed virgin spike. The touch of soft lip components against the sensor laden tip had the Praxian nearly screaming in pleasure. He had never felt something so intense, never felt as if his world was crashing around him and nothing would ever settle the desperate ache that spread like an ion fire across his circuits. The gentle messaging servos against his hip plating eventually eased Prowl's over taxed systems. The new sensations were driving him insane but Jazz knew what he was doing and Prowl sighed, his doorwings relaxed and drooped into his back and his tensed cables quickly settled into a tranquil hum of pleasure.

Jazz chuckled at Prowl's innocent reaction, a sly smile that went unnoticed by the noble had Jazz pulling the virginal spike into his mouth components. His glossa sneaking out to taste the drop of transfluid that gathered at the tip and promptly moaned at the sweet taste. Prowl really was innocent in every single way conceivable. The action making him hum around the pressurized spike appraisingly. He could not express enough just what an effect Prowl had on him. The bitter taste of Energon also alerted him that Prowl was fine, the break had gone well. It meant the pain should be fading now and with the way Prowl was arching off of the berth with quivering doorwings made Jazz shudder in his own anticipated pleasure.

Easing Prowl into a more intricate play of manipulating pleasure Jazz expanded his sensor net, imploring the young noble to do so as well. Prowl's expanding EM field was uneasy and tentative but with every brush Jazz gave a reward and soon the Spec Ops agent shuddered when Prowl's EM field pulsed excitedly against his. The single brush of a wild uncontrolled sensor net was enough for Jazz's own cooling fans to spin at their fastest setting. Every pleasure enriched touch of prowl made Jazz's thoughts become more incoherent. It was a teasing bliss for Jazz to override his imminent sympathetic overload when Prowl keened his second stimulated overload that orn. With Prowl's innocence Jazz wasn't surprised when Prowl's overload seemed to take him by surprise, the sweet taste of transfluid exploding down his throat made Jazz swallow reflexively and the action caused Prowl's to keen louder.

"Nggh!...'M...Sorry!" Prowl whined, his vocalizer spitting static and his quivering form refused to settle after the abrupt overload. He hadn't been expecting it, hadn't been prepared for the heated feeling that had suddenly assaulted his spark. It felt like his spark was now constantly pressing against his spark chamber in a need to get out and _connect_ to something. Prowl felt coolant tears streak down his cheek plates in mortification of what just happened and the intensity if his unexpected overload. He wanted badly to beg for forgiveness for not having better control of himself.

"Shhh Prowler. 'S alright." Jazz cooed as the apprehension in Prowl's EM field changed rapidly. Jazz sighed softly, the typical mortified reaction of an inexperienced youngling. Crooning at Prowl to calm him down and ignoring his own throbbing arousal pressing against his panelling provided quite a challenge. Jazz moved gracefully and speedily to pull Prowl into his lap before he was whispering sweet nothings into the Praxian's audial receiver. His servos charging with magnetic pulses as he rubbed tense doorwings, the action soon lessening Prowl's sudden flash of embarrassment and fear. It was understandable, the young noble had been thrust into this situation with no idea of what's had been happening to him and now he had to give up his coveted Pure Sparked seals to a stranger who only wished to help.

"Better?" Jazz asked; nuzzling Prowl's tense neck cable. His teeth nibbling at the sensitive cabling to counteract pleasure to the painful heat he felt pressed against his own plating. When Prowl nodded shakily and Jazz picked up on the nobles trembling form he gave a sigh of relief, the drugs was fading. It wouldn't be long now, one more overload and Prowl would be stabilized. With his own Medical programming Jazz ran a quick scan to make sure Prowl was alright, the results were normal except for an overly erratic spark pulse and Prowl's processor was running hot. He would prepare a mixture of Energon and medical grade to ease the processor ache Prowl was sure to have after an exhausted recharge.

"M-make it stop!" Prowl keened, a searing touch of arousal once again streaking through his systems. He was tired now that his distress had faded and all the while Jazz had yet to let him go, that feeling alone was what made Prowl place all of his trust in the older more experienced mech. He felt like a sparkling curled up in the other black and white mech's lap, his audio resting against Jazz's spark chamber and his servos curled around his hip plating as he clung to the only source that grounded his spark at the moment. It was a wonder that his Battle Computer had not yet crashed with all the conflicting emotions he was feeling.

Prowl did not protest when black servos flipped him so that one of Prowl's pedes sat on either side of Jazz's hip components. For the first time Prowl found himself playing shy again, his face plates were so close to Jazz's lip plates and it took every last bit of Prowl's own desire and want to initiate an innocent kiss. He didn't protest when Jazz's servos curled around his hips and pulled their bodies into close contact. The sound of screeching metal barely heard by either party, Prowl was too caught up in pleasure and Jazz was too focused on the mech that was undulating in his lap to an enticing rhythm that only he could hear. Those doorwings fluttering erotically behind the young Praxian noble almost never stilling at all.

Jazz groaned when Prowl unknowingly ground their interface panels together and he really had to fight with his instinctual programming in order to not hurt him. In a move ― testament to his ops training ― Jazz had Prowl pinned to the berth beneath him, his servos tracing every single sensitive sensor node he could reach. His own processor was getting hazy with want. He had always been able to restrain himself in situations like these before, it was a requirement of his training to not break because of pleasure, but now all Jazz wanted was to lose control with the beautiful mech giving himself over to his ministration with complete abandonment. Jazz knew he wasn't going to last long, knew that the impossible tight, wet virgin valve was going to bring so much pleasure that he was afraid Prowl's circuits wouldn't be the only ones that would fry.

"Prowler?" Jazz gripped those moving hips to still them, a stray law teasing the rim of Prowl's valve that was already slick with sweet smelling lubricant. "Ya need ta relax, Ah cannot take this on' slow. It'll only increase yer pain and this way it'll hurt more but fade faster." Jazz implored his lover to listen, there was no need for him to be caught by surprise. He waited for Prowl's consent and watched with a half dimmed visor as different emotions spread like wildfire across those attractive features before he was gifted by a nod. Purring in praise Jazz nuzzled that graceful red chevron and watched with eager optics as Prowl seemed to fall apart at the seams.

"Take yer time Prowler and tell me when yer ready." Jazz cooed when another flash of fear made itself known in those expressive optics. Prowl was pressing more into him but Jazz waited, he needed verbal confirmation even when those tentative presses against his interface panel was madding and arousing just as the itch across his plating to be buried in that heat was almost unbearable now.

"P-please Jazz! I-I can't t-t-take m-m-ore teasing!" Prowl finally managed to force from his fritzzing systems. More warnings were scrolling down his HUD and his processing core was threatening to overload with all the stimulating information that it was trying to process. So when he was pulled into fierce kiss he couldn't help but close his optics, the sensory information brushing against his sensor net was almost unbearable now ― he couldn't even keep his optics open any more.

There was no warning when it happened, the searing pain that erupted across his sensor net dragged a static scream from his vocalizer. This was unlike anything he was ever expecting, it wasn't worse but it wasn't better either. The sudden stretch to his virginal valve and rush of extra lubricant and Energon stung him from the inside. He had never felt anything like it and Prowl started when gentle claw like fingers wiped away at the coolant tears he didn't even know he had been shedding. The low melody that Jazz hummed into his audio soon had Prowl relaxing completely. The moment of penetration had left his processor reeling but now Prowl allowed himself the luxury to call upon his trust and rested his helm back onto the berth and his arching back struts he didn't even know were in an uncomfortable position fell back onto the berth.

Prowl couldn't describe it but when Jazz held still for him to stabilize and encouraged him to relax, Prowl could only come up with the sensation that now rushed through him as pure satisfaction at being so full. The way that Jazz's spike filled him made Prowl soon wiggle his hips in hopes of getting more of that satisfying bliss.

"So good Prowler, Ah'll take it easy." Jazz murmured before his engine revved when Prowl clung to him desperately, pedes wound around his thighs and pulled him closer. The expression of pure abandonment drove Jazz into action. Still mindful of his lover's inexperience and pain Prowl was most likely experiencing he took it slow, his thrusts building a steady rhythm of pleasure. The more he put into it the more Prowl became more animated in accepting and giving pleasure.

They soon were lost to the sensations of utter bliss. Prowl keened and whined in pure unadulterated pleasure, his back struts arching into Jazz. The charge he felt building inside of him was reflected in Jazz as sparks of blue danced between the two of them. The gentle thrust were driving Prowl insane with need but the slow build towards overcharge was so much better than the previous two.

"J-Jaaazzz! P-please!" Prowl resorted to begging for more sensation. He was being completely overwhelmed and was lost in his pleasure. Jazz, always the considerate lover, gave Prowl what he asked for and Prowl was soon constantly straining in pleasure. His doorwings quivering and fluttering with every thrust and touch. When a mouth closed around the tip of Prowl's chevron and magnetized black claw like servos dragged across his black and white doorwings Prowl screamed. His valve spasmodically tightening around Jazz's spike until he sent them both over the edge of bliss.

Spark pulses synchronized, systems integrated and pleasure was shared through all possible means. EM fields flared and expanded, only bliss to be shared and affection to spill over. It was all it took for both of them to completely lose it. Prowl never felt the almost crippling pain when Jazz accidentally bit down and caused dents to form on his chevron. But frankly Prowl couldn't care; the sudden charge from that unexpected twist of pain had him screaming until his vocalizer cracked and his processor was forced offline by the intensity of all the sensations.

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz's lazily dimmed visor observed Prowl's relaxed features from a safe distance, he relaxed in a chair and awaited the young noble's Carrier. Several joors had passed and Jazz was sure that Ratchet would be showing up soon, that name in itself sounded familiar and he just hoped that it wasn't who he thought it was. The old Spec Ops Medic with the same name had been the spawn of Unicron himself as far as Jazz could remember, the legendary Ratchet the Hatchet was the most well known medic around all of the Autobot forces and in its inception was said to be the Prime's personal physician. When Prowl turned in his recharge and curled around himself for comfort Jazz smiled, he was such a gentle spark. The sweetest spark Jazz had ever encountered.

"If I get my servos on the mechs that did this to my sparkling I am going to remodel them into service drones! FRAG IT! Prowl! Where are you?" Jazz chuckled at the irony, sending a data burst to the door he watched as it slid open. The mumbled curses that flew from the Medic's vocalizer was both astonishingly familiar and the several dialects of many cities was even more shocking, it seemed the Medic had been travelling if he had picked up that wide array of swear words in different languages. The moment Ratchet realized who was in the room those optics brightened in recognition before a sigh of relief left Ratchet's intakes.

"Oh thank Primus it was you Jazz!" Ratchet exclaimed and rushed into the room, his attention immediately on Prowl. Jazz said nothing, just stood to the side, cube of high grade in his servos as he waited for Ratchet to finish up on his scans. His visor flashed a deep blue when he watched with surprise as Ratchet leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on Prowl's chevron before pulling away with a lingering comforting touch and finally turning his attention to the mech in the room.

"How 's he?" Jazz asked. Quickly pushing the high grade into Ratchet's servos before the volatile Medic came after him. Giving a sigh of relief when Ratchet took the cube without protest and downed it in one gulp. Sorrowful optics that had seen too much looked at the Spec Ops mech wearily.

"He's fine Jazz, better than I would have expected him to be. You've had experience with this drug? You've refuelled at least twice and added a medical grade mix; he's going to be happy about that in the morning. The side effects would have been lessened." Jazz gave a hollow bitter laugh and nodded.

"Ah know it personally, 'ave seen it used and hate it. Prowler didn't deserve what was given to 'im. Nomech does, its jus' a pretence fer rape." Jazz noted his visor now fully trained on the sleeping Praxian. His memory core already branding this experience into his processors, he would never forget Prowl and even if they ended up in the fight for Cybertron later on. A sigh spilled from his vents as Jazz pressed a comforting servo on Ratchet's shoulder plates.

"I'm just glad you found him before it could have happened, it could have been worse." Ratchet admitted, his optics also now trained on his sparkling. Jazz nodded, that was about the most grateful he was ever going to see Ratchet. His spark was still calling out to the sleeping mech, something he hadn't experienced before but was happy that he did.

"Ah need ta get goin' Ratch. Work to do, mechs to kill. Ya know the drill. Look after Prowler fer me Ratch, if he wan's te contact me, ya know mah emergency comm." Ratchet nodded in dismissal, knowing that Jazz wasn't going to say more than that but Ratchet was sure that Jazz was going to go after the ones who had dared to try and hurt his little sparkling. He was surprised however at the tenderness in that brilliant visor as it trained on the youngest of his creations. A secret smile splitting his faceplates as he recognized the energy in the room, oh Jazz was in for a surprise. Ratchet had never thought that the playful but ruthless Spec Ops agent would ever have matching sparkmate but now he was sure. There was no mistaking the gentleness and tender expression. He had been much the same when he had met Wheeljack, was still even.

"Take care Jazz. Don't be a stranger come visit us in Praxus when you drop by, Prowl would love to see you again." Ratchet purred just as the saboteur disappeared out into the early morning sun.

Prowl rubbed at his optics sleepily, his entire body humming in satisfaction and sated enjoyment. A pleasant tingle crawling across his plating a stark reminder of the amazing night he had before. When he sat up he felt his traveller's cloak being wound around his shoulder plates for warmth and a gentle kiss placed on his chevron. The touch against the bruised metal making him flinch away slightly.

"C-Carrier?" He asked tentatively.

"Yes my Sweetspark. Now what do you say we go talk some sense into that infernal twin of yours?" Prowl nodded, his spark aching when Jazz wasn't there anymore. This time he couldn't hide his hurt and his Carrier cooed softly when the coolant tears truly started falling. He wanted what he had had that night before.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed my oneshot story then please leave me a review! I would really appreciate that as much as I enjoy writing for an audience who shows their appreciation. Thanks again and I'll see you again soon. I may cross post this to the Prowl x Jazz community of LJ in segments as such large posts aren't usually accepted. So if you like reading there then keep a look out in the next two days.

Jazz x Prowl forever!

Yours Truly

DF


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Into the Dark  
**Fandom:** Transformers  
**Continuity:** G1  
**Pairing/s:** Jazz x Prowl, Bluestreak x Prowl (a tiny bit)  
**Rating:** NC - 17  
**Summary:** Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...  
**Chapter Summary:** In the dead of the night, Prowl finds himself in his office depressed about one of his plans' failures. Bluestreak comes to comfort him; they are however interrupted by an unexpected mech showing up with an unexpected request...  
**Warnings:** Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers & Sires, smut, explicit explanation of sticky smut, twincest, tactile overloads and incest.

**N/B:** Finally, it's finished! Took me days before I could get everything in order and I answered some of the questions but not all. This is now officially turned into a Multi-chap fic and I am happy about that. I have never written a fic that had chapter's this long but I enjoy it. It keeps my mind sharp and drives my will to deliver that much faster.

There will be a very sexy moment between Bluestreak and Prowl in the beginning and I hope you guys like it. I will be turning this into a threesome sometime along the way but not right now. For now thought, that's all I can think of. Oh and there will be a bit more about Prowl's family this time and I hope you like the last scene between Ratch and Sunny.

Chapter Notes:

Nanoklik - 1 second

Klik - 1 minute

Breem - 8 minutes

Joor - 1 Hour

Cycle 18 Hours

Orn - Day

Metacycle - 6 years

Vorn - 83 years

"..." Talking

**"..."** Comm. line

_Thoughts_ or_ Emphasis_ on a word

~...~ Medical Hardline

_**::Sweetspark::**_ Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union

* * *

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl wiped at his optics tiredly, an exhausted yawn spilled from his intakes and a bit of uncertainty rippled across his sensors. His optics were burning from the amount of data he had just taken into his processor with too much concentration, or so he told himself. This had nothing to do with the shattered report on the floor. Carrier had after all always warned him that his intense scrutiny of datapads would one day cost him the deterioration of his optics. Yet, the tactician was too afraid to tell Ratchet about it. He'd get a stern lecture and his audial receivers were far too sensitive right now to endure such a lecture as was his spark. He cringed at that train of thought; the inevitable memory hanging over his shoulder plates heavily. One of his plans had gotten twenty good mech killed ― that alone left his spark winging in its casing. Twenty losses to fifty Decepticons and fifteen Neutrals but still, why so many? He had planned so carefully before submitting it to the higher officers. He hadn't even been expecting for it to be accepted. Now his failure sat heavily on his shoulder plates.

A low whine left his vocalizer as he stared at the remains of the report, the pieces of the shattered datapad decorated his floor in a glitter of unidentifiable memory crystal. In a show of uncharacteristic clumsiness Prowl had dropped the datapad in shock with enough force for it to shatter upon impact to the floor. The moment he had read the report he felt his entire world crumple around him; he couldn't even bring himself to pick up the pieces of his own failure. Couldn't bring himself to even look at it in detail.

There it was; the need to distance himself and punish himself for the pain he had caused. The undeniable guilt that warred with his logic. His logic had a good standing that it was war, sacrifices had to be made but Prowl's emotional core was fighting stubbornly and decided that even though sacrifices had to be made it didn't have to be _him_ to carry that sentinel into the future. He wasn't Unicron's advocate...He was supposed to protect those he sent into battle ― which he had clearly failed this time...

The pain of knowing his own failure had caused so much death and destruction was enough to make his intakes hitch as fear slammed into his processor ― what if he did this again but this time when he felt tired and then drew up battle plans? No matter how much Prowl wanted comfort from his family, half of them had been stationed away at a new base where the Prime was supposed to be kept safe. A fortified warship with the best soldiers and officers; Prowl hadn't been satisfied. He had been restless enough for several joors now, checking and rechecking the defences over and over just to make sure they would be safe. The young tactician wouldn't be taking any more chances, especially if it was his loved ones. Prowl didn't think he could bring himself to live if his family was sacrificed because of his mistakes. Having a Medic for a Carrier often had the advantage of knowledge in offlining oneself with either immense pain or painless spark extinguishing. Even that small amount of reassurance did not make Prowl's self doubt fade. He could still make a mistake and lose his family as a consequence.

A subtle ache was spreading behind his optics and ravaging his now overly tired processor; a familiar sting of deep emotional turmoil. Prowl gave a quiet but undetectable moan of sorrow, a shudder spreading through his internals in semblance of the pain. He sank back into his chair with pure exhaustion; his processor reminding his spark that they were at the height of war. It did absolutely nothing to ease Prowl's uneasiness. In fact it only made it worse. He should have been able to do more, should have worked with more variables and contingency plans...

Prowl sagged onto his desk, doorwings drooping very low on his back struts and a painful sigh left his hitching intakes. Better to not let others see his emotional state, his age and experience was still very much in question. Resting his chevron on a series of complex calculation datapads Prowl did not care that their screens were being scratched. The Praxian winced visibly however at the influx of another oncoming processor ache. He didn't move when his office doors swished open, didn't even lift his helm or cycle open his optics. He did not feel threatened by the presence, in fact it was a soothing presence across his wild emotions. Even when Prowl became acutely aware of a familiar presence circling his desk to stand behind his chair; his stoic facade faded completely. His tightly controlled emotions slipped as the first of coolant tears gathered in his optics. Yet the tactician stubbornly refused to let them fall...

"Prowl? You've been working too hard again. Carrier sent me a comm. to come fetch you for some recharge. Ratchet threatened to remodel you into the first sentient medical scanner so that he can keep a close optic on you. I ,for one, would hate to see you like that. You won't do well as a scanner ― too finicky." Prowl's hollow chuckle interrupted his twin's stream of words and when their bond flared with concern Prowl didn't slam it shut like he usually did. He didn't protest either when tender assuring servos rested against his tense shoulder plates. The fluttering touches were enough to drag Prowl's processor off of his scrambled thoughts, his doorwings moving contentedly at the comforting caress.

"Prowl? What's wrong? You're not usually this quiet. You would have told me by now to shut up or would have chased me out of your office, something's not right. I mean the bond is usually quiet but now it's like you're in constant pain. Please talk to me Prowl." Prowl didn't protest when Bluestreak's strong servos suddenly pulled him bodily from his comfortable chair; his datapads scattering when they were pushed back aside to make space on the surface. His doorwings fluttering behind him when he was forced to sit on the edge of the desk with strong assured servos, soft pliable fingertips grazed his faceplates and Prowl jolted from his dazed staring ― Bluestreak's concern was like shining beacon of light for Prowl's over taxed emotions. Light blue optics locked with his older twin's since he had entered the room for the first time; this time his emotions were relied in a simple glance before the tactician turned his helm to the side to avoid seeing the expression forming on his brother's faceplates.

"Oh Prowl! Why didn't you tell me? I don't like it when you get so quiet. It's like when you miss Jazz...You never talk but I feel your pain; just as I know you feel pain like the rest of us. You have one the softest sparks that I know of, you don't need to act as if you never feel anything. Prowl; please talk to me. If not me then Carrier ― he needs to know and maybe Sir―."

"Bluestreak, _please_... Not now." Prowl pleaded. His twin fell silent and Prowl relaxed a bit, wiggling so that he was more comfortable on the surface of his desk. This time when Bluestreak's servos trailed across his chassis and offered him a different kind of comfort Prowl did not object; he needed this. Just for a moment to forget what had been brooding in his emotional core. Bluestreak was always gentle and the skittering fingers were always a soothing caress that offered an escape that Prowl could not deny. His doorwings arched back in search of some stimulation when fingers pressed against his chassis; one servo resting protectively over his spark. Prowl's spark in return gave a little leap of joy before it settled to a more subdued pulse. The relaxed rhythm of Bluestreak's touches and their sparks synchronizing to his strokes had Prowl mewling for more.

The young Praxian noble did not care that his office door was open, all he wanted was the reassurance that Bluestreak wasn't rejecting him like the first time they met. What he needed was reassurance that their twin bond was as strong as it was ever going to be and trusting Bluestreak like this gave Prowl the relief he needed of utterly losing himself. Bluestreak's intentions were a reassurance to his taxed spark and it was calming Prowl when their bond was now flooded with calm, loving emotions. The disjointed feeling he had experienced before was soon fading the longer Bluestreak teased his sensitive spots. Prowl leant forward, needing more than crystal petal light touches and promises of comfort.

"Tell me what you need Prowl." Bluestreak implored gently and Prowl moaned softly when stray fingers reached past his helm to trace quivering doorwings. That alone caused a shudder t work its way through his systems and began spreading heat through his circuits pleasantly. Forgetting his sudden bout of emotional influx Prowl relaxed even more, an indication of how much he had come to trust his twin over the vorns.

Prowl knew that it wasn't uncommon for twins to seek interface stimulation from each other; Pit even Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had cornered him a few times to build up their sibling relationship. Prowl allowed it and even enjoyed it as to him it brought him and his siblings closer together so when Bluestreak's touches became suggestive like this Prowl willing gave in; almost desperate for a touch of certainty that he was not as alone as he felt sometimes.

Although Prowl never moved further than spark merges, EM clashes and tactile interfacing. The young tactician only ever saved himself fully for Jazz, except that one drunken cycle with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ― his processors buzzed pleasantly with pleasure at the mere thought of it. He could remember it vividly and still sometimes sought those heights of pleasure but his own servos pleasuring his valve just wasn't always enough. His discipline protocols soon always overrode those desires; the silent promise he had made with himself that night many vorns ago of only ever offering himself to Jazz was still high in his priority programming. There were so many conflictions, so many different emotions now rushing through his systems that Prowl whined when his Battle Computer started protesting at the input. His spark straining against his spark chamber did not help either.

Offering himself to Bluestreak and giving in to the next best thing of expressing their intimate bond and love ― Prowl pushed his twin back slightly and got up from where he was sitting on the desk. Giving a sultry smirk and a wink at his twin over his shoulder plates, the tactician turned around and leaned back over the desk. This time hoping that Bluestreak wouldn't pry too far into his emotional core and status. Doorwings flared in a blatant invitation before settling to a seductive flutter. A low purr escaped Prowl's engine when a teasing, experimental touch flitted across the sensor enriched panels. A caress of love and understanding spread listlessly through their bond as well as a stroke of arousal when Bluestreak took his time. The next swipe of sure servos and an arousing brush of an EM field had Prowl arching into the touch; optics shuttering of their own accord. Bluestreak was usually either controlled or completely wild; either way had Prowl always wanting more. The intimacy this created with his brother had him reeling from pleasure orns afterwards. He never understood just why he was so sensitive when none of his three brothers seemed to be like him; well maybe Sideswipe was more like him than he liked to admit...

_''S beautiful Prowl. Ah wan' ya all te m'self...'_ Prowl whined, the imaginary purr across his audial in a whisper of a memory flux built a quick charge skittering across his armour plating. The sensitivity of the sensor nodes lighting across his doorwing panels had Prowl wanting and writhing for more. The mere thought of Jazz was enough to heat his systems more than anything. Prowl, mindful of hurting Bluestreak, pressed back into his servos for more of those tender touches. The feeling of a strong chassis colliding with his door hinges made Prowl cry out ― his vocalizer spitting static when his processor gave in to the sensations with pure abandonment of his previous line of thought. Laying his cheek plates on the cool metal desk, Prowl sought some relief from the sensations ― his servos curled around the end of the desk as he sought some stable purchase. It was a way to ground himself for a klik before the pleasure truly took over but not matter how fierce his grip became and how hard he rubbed his cheek plates against the desk surface, it wasn't working in stalling the rapid build of a charge.

"B-Bluestreak!" Prowl howled in pleasure when soft pliable lip plates replaced his twin's servos and then proceeded to drag across his left doorwing, the most sensitive sensor nodes screaming with pleasure before a swipe of a glossa left Prowl's processor reeling with bliss. He had forgotten how good a doorwing overload could feel, forgotten the sensitivity that his frame offered. The feeling of clever fingers pinching the top of his one doorwing whilst Bluestreak pulled the tip of his other doorwing into a hot mouth made Prowl shudder in unadulterated pleasure. His EM field expanded tentatively at fist and when it clashed against Bluestreak's own, Prowl allowed it to become more uncontrolled in hopes of offering to share his ultimate pleasure with his twin. Prowl stiffened in hopes of keeping the heated charge a little longer now before he felt the desperate need to let go. Usually the longer a charge lingered across sensitive plating the more intense the pleasure was to be when he finally released it.

The exhaustion of his body built steadily as he stretched the kliks of keeping the charge from dispersing across his circuits; it was a display of his control but also his need to feel something more intense. Prowl's HUD was now screaming with warnings of overheating components and interfacing protocols that wanted to be onlined but for the moment Prowl did well in ignoring them. Just concentrating on the sensations that Bluestreak managed to alight across his sensitive doorwing panels.

"So beautiful Prowl. It's been a while since I've seen you like this, let go brother Prowl. I won't judge you I promise. Let go." Bluestreak barely managed the words before Prowl's heated plating pressed harder into his touch. Prowl's internals pressed for a heavier charge and for more pleasure so the younger twin arched back gracefully just as his systems started to lock up.

Blue light arced towards every swipe of Bluestreak's gentle servos and a following teasing glossa across doorwings left Prowl nearly screaming in utter bliss. Bluestreak hummed in approval, moving a free servo to press against Prowl's heated interface panel but he did not ask for it to be opened, he just scratched at the plating to heighten his brother's tactile sensations.

Accepting Bluestreak's words Prowl truly did let go in that moment. His shame and control slipping away like Energon through trembling fingers; there was nothing left to hold on to and Prowl snapped. Back struts arching; doorwings quivering at his imminent release and when Bluestreak finally detected the deliberate stall in his brother's pleasure, he pinched Prowl's chevron to add a bit of pain ― knowing exactly what Prowl needed for pure abandonment.

"My beloved brother Prowl."

The heavy and quick charge shot through Prowl's systems; overwhelming his processors and interfacing arrays. Lubricant pooled against his interface panel in a sign of wanting more than just tactile touch. Optics snapped open at the charge of pure bliss; in a brief half coherent moment his optics collided with a sight that Prowl never expected to see. It had him nearly falling flat on his desk in embarrassment, trying to hide his shame by turning away his faceplates but his optics were glued to that one mech. Fear slammed into his spark when his optics finally collided with a very familiar visor and a knowing sensual smirk; the mech of so many of his erotic fluxes was leaning casually against the open doorway and merely observed them with hidden lust and a promise for more than just casual observations.

"Heya Prowler." The sultry tone had Prowl keening high and loud, the last of his control snapping completely in a rush of relief and pure excitable anticipation and a different form of love he himself was not used to. His spark swelled at the realization and Prowl's voice rose in the last vestiges of his intense overload. Optics never closing as his spark was beating a frantic pulse against his spark chamber, aching to connect to this one mech and never let go again.

0oooo00oooo0

The soft lighting of the base illuminated the path to the individual offices; darkness from the night crept in from the large open window panes and the chill of the incoming winter months spread through the Praxus base unbidden of the mechs still working this late. A controlled shadow was moving through the long hallways, avoiding all the cameras expertly and willingly just as he prowled past security guards without them ever bating an optic. His movements were so graceful it appeared as if he was merely dancing to the rhythm of a melody that only he knew. A dimmed visor taking in the security before clever fingers bypassed encryptions and disabled past alarms as if they were never there in the first place.

The glow of an open office door and shining lights loomed a few paces ahead and Jazz slowed; a sense of anticipation building in his circuits. He was_ finally_ going to see Prowl again, he had been restraining himself from getting too attached to the mech he had helped all those vorns ago but now he finally wanted to settle down. After vorns of waiting and planning their future together; it was often the only thing that got Jazz through some of his more dangerous and tedious missions for the Spec Ops. Now, as the Director of the Spec Ops he was free to have a steady station at a base and allowed to finally take Prowl to be his lover. Circumstances had changed for the better. A lazy smile curled across his lip components the closer he got to his salvation, yes, there was no other word for it. Prowl was his salvation, his only hope as he had come to realize over the vorns of dangerous work. Prowl was always brushing across his thoughts when everything else seemed so completely helpless.

His pedesteps were silent but sure of their destination. Jazz's excitement was now palpable to even him and the bright beacon of light at the end of the hallway was his only true salvation and forgiveness. Only a touch of trepidation reached his spark but Jazz was used to ignoring it, even when there was a real possibility that Prowl would not want him anymore. Jazz didn't dwell on it, it wasn't in his nature to brood over things he had no control over.

The corridors were empty now and Jazz hummed a melody to himself, it was the lullaby he had first sung to Prowl when the tactician was in distress. It was a pleasant soothing caress to his audios in spite of his mounting excitement; Jazz was practically vibrating in his exhilaration. This wasn't a mission anymore, no, this was something to sooth the ache that his spark had been experiencing for vorns. Even though he was sneaking through an Autobot base in Praxus like the saboteur he was, Jazz was actually expected here so if he was found now he didn't run the risk of being taken prisoner.

He only played this game with himself to build his own excitement at meeting Prowl again; his Spec Ops programming was strange sometimes ― only allowing him enjoy something if he had worked for it. Keeping his focus trained on the open doorway, Jazz felt himself heat up at the sounds he now heard echoing through the corridors. When he finally reached the open doorway Jazz was about to walk straight in and claim Prowl for himself but he froze instead. The light from the inside the office was illuminating the two figures inside and was glinting off of his visor dimly. The sight that met him had Jazz completely captivated; his visor immediately brightened so that he could take in every possible detail that was spread for his processor to ravage.

"My beloved brother Prowl." The Praxian behind Prowl hummed and a quiet rush of air left Jazz's intakes, a sense of awe spilling through his emotional core before his interface protocols were already pinging him for execution. This was Prowl's twin, if he remembered the information Prowl had given him in a fleeting moment all those vorns ago. The Spec Ops Director couldn't think, couldn't speak and couldn't move as he watched the Praxian he had coveted for vorns upon vorns of a lonely existence ― in the throes of ecstasy by his brother's servos. It was _the_ most erotic sight he had ever seen.

Doorwings quivered erotically beneath the experienced fingertips of another Praxian mech, this one grey and red, pressed against Prowl's back struts expertly. Jazz nearly choked on his glossa with the way that Prowl was bent over the desk ― arched gracefully into exploring fingertips with beautifully flared black and white doorwings that fluttered and quivered with every charge of pleasure that rushed through the young mech. Prowl's brother, as Jazz had identified the mech by his words earlier, was leaning over the smaller framed Prowl seductively. Jazz found himself shuddering at the howl of pleasure that Prowl let lose once his overload hit. And when those beautiful, innocent optics snapped open to connect with Jazz's visor; the saboteur couldn't help but give a lazy seductive smile.

"Heya Prowler." He purred, his smile spreading when Prowl keened higher and louder the moment he had spoken to him directly. Those beautiful features twisted in pure bliss and abandonment, Prowler was even more beautiful than Jazz remembered him being. A soft sympathetic moan left his vocalizer once Prowl slumped back onto the desk, strutless in his post overload haze. Even Jazz could _feel_ the intensity of that overload like static electricity rushing across his plating and he was merely observing.

"He'll be happier now that you're back Jazz. He's told me so much about you, even saves himself only for you. I'm going to leave you now, look after him. He has been depressed lately and I don't know why. He needs you desperately; even I can't do much more for his spark ache." Jazz started when the other mech, he had yet to identify other than Prowl's twin, moved away from behind the desk and towards the open door. Never once stopping in his talking or never lifted that gentle understanding smile that Jazz was gifted with. He frowned however at all the words and the information he had just been given in a mere half klik but eventually the legendary saboteur nodded; taking the responsibility that he had just been offered.

"Who 're ya?" Jazz eventually settled on asking that one question after the multitude of questions rushing through his processor.

"Bluestreak, Prowl's twin b-but I-I have to go now; I've got patrol. Please look after him for me for now." The Praxian answered swiftly and Jazz smiled at Bluestreak and nodded his assent; he however frowned when he noticed enticing grey doorwings quivering in suppressed release. Jazz wanted to stop Bluestreak from leaving but when the door hissed shut there was nothing more he could do and his attention was now solely focused on Prowl. His visor trained on the young noble spread appetisingly across the desk before him, Prowl had yet to move from where he had made himself comfortable. Jazz chuckled at the Praxian's sated expression and intensely confused optics who were imploring him for an answer for his sudden appearance.

"Hey Prowler, 't's been a while. How 're ya?" Jazz asked gently, his spark was settling a bit more now that they were alone together. Jazz pulled Prowl's desk chair closer to him before he seated himself gracefully. He chuckled at the way Prowl was fighting with himself, mouth components opening and closing as intakes hitched in the aftermath of an intense overload. When Prowl pushed himself onto his elbow struts to make a point, his entire frame was vibrating from exertion. Jazz took pity on the Praxian mech and with a small sigh, traced innocent features.

His own servo now curling around Prowl's for comfort before he pulled the unsuspecting mech into his lap; white thigh plates resting on either side of Jazz's hip components in the abrupt change of position. Prowl's engine purred happily against Jazz's chassis and he leaned more into Jazz's frame. The saboteur rubbed tense back struts in a soothing tender touch although he stayed well away from still quivering doorwings, knowing that the appendages were hypersensitive to any form of touch at the moment. Jazz had to truly exercise self control because he wanted nothing more than to caress those sensor enriched panels and see what sort of noises he could wring from Prowl's vocalizer. But by Primus' right he kept himself in check; knowing that there was something else he had to tell his little lover first. Plus, Prowl could actually be in pain if he forced another sensor net enriched overload.

"W-wh-why―." Jazz smiled softly, his fingers tracing Prowl's chevron in comfort as he waited patiently for the tactician to reset his vocalizer. Those innocent optics were intent on capturing his visor for eternity and Jazz couldn't find it in himself to look away; he reassured Prowl that he wasn't going anywhere. The young Praxian noble was too precious to him and now that those cheek plates were a deep pink in embarrassment and arousal he wanted nothing more than to claim Prowl for himself for all of eternity, even his spark was happy at that admission. Prowl _would_ be _his_.

"Why are you here?" Prowl forced from his tired vocalizer, proud that no static had interrupted his words even when his spark pulse was way too fast ― it was chasing too much Energon through his systems and he was running hot again. No matter that his spark was practically dancing in its chamber with joy. Prowl had to grip Jazz's shoulder plates as he fought to steady himself when his equilibrium seemed to be ripped away from him just as he was logically trying to figure out just what had happened; it was proving more difficult than normal.

He had been bent over his desk with Bluestreak offering him relief from difficult emotions when he had become aware of Jazz's presence. Prowl lost track of all his thoughts at that moment. His processor was _still_ hazy with the sheer force of his overload and the knowledge that it had been Jazz who had watched him in the throes of passion. Prowl couldn't help the inexplicable joy he felt in seeing the Kaonian again and the embarrassment that now traced his Energon lines. How many vorns had he waited to hear from Jazz? How many vorns had he hoped that what they shared that night meant more to Jazz than just helping a fellow Autobot in distress? Now that Jazz was finally here, Prowl couldn't help but hope that Jazz wanted him as much as he had wanted Jazz.

Prowl allowed his protective, stoic walls to drop after a few kliks of silence ― the trust he shared with the saboteur had not faded since that night. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip plates as Prowl's sensitive doorwings fluttered behind him in joy and anticipation. His previous dark emotions was slipping away from him and leaving a giddy youngling in its place. Even with the compromising position he now found himself in Prowl couldn't help but be grateful and happy, even his engine was letting out a low purr of enjoyment of being held by Jazz again. Even his systems were still tingling with the force of the pleasure that had escaped him a breem ago. Prowl was now very well aware of the uncomfortable feeling of his valve trickling lubricating in hopes for more. They had not even discussed the reasoning behind the Jazz's arrival but Prowl's processor wasn't truly in control at the moment; he wanted Jazz and he wanted him badly. His emotional core was screaming at him to not let the one mech go that had made him more safe than even Ratchet could.

"'M 'ere ta take ya 'ome wit' meh Prowler. Ya've been called back ta base in Iacon 'nd Ah 'ffred ta bring ya 'nd yer twin back wit' meh. Ah wanted ta see ya 'gain 'fter _so_ long." At Jazz's words, Prowl shivered. The note of a seductive purr did not go unnoticed and Prowl squirmed where he was seated. Keeping himself steady by laying his hands on Jazz's shoulder plates, even digging his fingers into transformer seams ― Prowl pushed himself back a little to observe Jazz better.

"But Carrier or Sire would have told me if I was expected back on the Ark. Then again, Carrier has been bothered by something lately ― he won't talk to me about it." Prowl noted uncertainly but when he pressed a query against his Creator-Creation Union it remained assuring that it was still there but it was still stubbornly silent. When Jazz chuckled at his innocent concern Prowl bristled but said nothing, he was after all balanced in the mech's lap and if Prowl or Jazz moved too much he could find himself toppling on his aft. And the floor didn't look like a very dignified place to sprawl out now. Not to mention that his arousal would be exposed that was currently hidden from Jazz's visor.

Prowl was mortified to find that his valve's lubricants had leaked in a steady trickle of silvery blue rivulets past his closed interface panel and down shimmering white thighs. However when he squirmed in Jazz's lap a servo rested on his hip plates to steady his movements and Prowl was afraid that Jazz would feel his _need_ and arousal. Prowl tried his best to ignored it and in his mortified shamed buried his faceplates in Jazz's neck cables. A sly, inexperienced glossa sneaking out to tease the sensitive neck cabling in hopes of getting Jazz to focus on something else. When Jazz's engine erupted in a rumble of satisfaction, Prowl felt his spark leap in his spark chamber. A small whine of triumph escaping his vocalizer.

"If ya don' si' still Prowler, Ah'm gonna put ya in stasis cuffs." Jazz warned when Prowl found a very sensitive spot kissing just behind Jazz's sensor horn. He could feel the heat rolling off Prowl in waves as Prowl blushed and stammered at his claim. Prowl squirmed again when Jazz's servo tightened against his hip plates, a servo tracing the inside of Prowl's thighs. When Jazz felt the slick lubricant on Prowl's inner thighs he nearly lost his resolve about what he was going to say. Instead Jazz just continued to rub little circles on Prowl's thighs to keep the mech grounded.

"Now, Ah know ya would rather do somethin' 'lse bu' I need ta say somethin' before we take this further." Prowl felt a shot of fear race across his spark but didn't acknowledge it; his servos disobeyed Jazz's words from before and he fiddled with one of Jazz's sensory horns in hopes of distracting Jazz from whatever he was going to say. The foreboding feeling Prowl had flitting across his spark didn't fade and for the first time in a long time ― he felt vulnerable and exposed. His spark was dictating his movements and despite Jazz's warning Prowl continued to squirm and writhe in Jazz's lap. He was desperately trying to stall Jazz's words because he was afraid of what the Spec Ops would say. Was he still unlovable? Would Jazz no longer want him now that he knew what he did with his twin? There were so many questions but so little answers and it was giving Prowl a Pit of a processor ache.

Prowl felt his intakes hitch when that sharp visor was trained on him and a lazy smirk curled at his lover's lip plates. Before he could try and wiggle to make himself more comfortable in Jazz tight grip he was pushed back on the surface of the desk. This time being held there with strong servos. Before Prowl could try and move he heard a click and found his servos completely restricted. Jazz hummed satisfyingly at his work and easily pulled Prowl back into his lap; this time with his back pressing against Prowl's chest. Those doorwings were humming in uncertainty and Prowl was vibrating with fear. Jazz shushed him with gentle caresses to a sensitive chevron, he wasn't sure why Prowl was radiating so much apprehension but he didn't want his little Praxian to feel that.

"Now tha' Ah 'ave yer attention, Prowler. Let meh talk." Prowl nodded when he relaxed beneath Jazz's ministration; his interface protocols cooling at the assuring humming that vibrated against his audial receiver pleasantly. Prowl relaxed back into Jazz's frame despite his servos now cuffed in front of him.

"Yer no' 'n trouble Prowl, Ah jus' wan' te ask ya somethin'." Prowl's tense doorwings drooped and he shifted a bit, the stasis cuffs weren't hurting him but they were somewhat uncomfortable now. Yet, what Prowl didn't understand was why his plating was heating up at the thought of being bound and helpless beneath Jazz for any period of time. When he swallowed thickly, Prowl finally nodded in consent ― indicating that he was listening.

"Ah don' know if ya also feel this Prowl;" Jazz began; his servo resting just above Prowl's spark chamber as he tapped a tender rhythm there with his clawed finger. "The jump in mah spark whenever Ah think 'bout ya; the res'lution ya give meh when Ah've los' all purpose. Ah don' wan' this te be jus' a casual relationship, Prowler. Ah wan' ya all te m'self. Ah guess Ah'm asking ta form'lly court ya fer a bond." Prowl stilled at those words, his Battle Computer warring his logic at the sudden revelation that Jazz had just spoken. A sound of surprise left his vocalizer and it felt as if the world was closing in on him too fast but Prowl calmed instantly when he truly thought about Jazz had asked. He hadn't asked for a bond right away, he had asked for courting him first to test the lengths that their bond would one day reach. Prowl blushed, his arousal didn't fade in fact his interface array was even hotter and wetter than before.

Momentarily weighing the words against the happy jump of his spark Prowl didn't have words; relief flooded through his systems enough that blue coolant tears gathered in his optics. A strangled sound escaped his vocalizer in a whisper of a 'yes'. He wanted this more than he could voice or express at the moment.

0oooo00oooo0

"Ratchet? Come back ta the berth." Wheeljack whined and when his beloved didn't answer him he sat up; the soft berth covers falling to the floor when he stood up. Wheeljack felt his spark reaching out to his bondmate ― who was sitting by the window sill; gentle blue optics staring up at the Iconian Constellations with a sadness that was palpable to Wheeljack. The dim starlight shimmering on Ratchet's pearl white plating in a blue glow and the added soft lighting from an ion fire burning in the hearth illuminated the brightness of Ratchet's paint. The purple flame hue now reflecting off of beautiful pear white that shimmered every time the Medic moved. The sorrow was rolling off of Ratchet in waves and Wheeljack rested his helm against his bondmate's shoulder struts in a show of comfort. When Ratchet did not relax, Wheeljack traced the deep scars on Ratchet's back struts with a gentleness that was well known to him. He mourned the loss of Ratchet's once beautiful flaring doorwings, they were just as white as his lover's plating and just as beautifully delicate as the rest of Ratchet.

When he felt his beloved stiffen above him Wheeljack cooed softly but continued his ministrations, placing a comforting kiss on top of a gleaming silver chevron. He knew the pain his beloved Medic had lived through before they had officially been bonded and being the only creation of the Lord of Praxus had not been easy for Ratchet. Especially when he had had a tendency to test the Lord's patience by enrolling in the Iconian Academy of Science and Medicine when he was supposed to be entering the Council as a politician. As a result Ratchet had lost his doorwings violently and painfully in one of Lord Sparks' intense rages, the after affects of coming home with a Master Medical degree and being the valedictorian of the Medical Faculty.

Out of guilt in betraying his Sire, Ratchet had allowed himself to keep the scars of his shame. It was also a defiance in which he refused to succumb to his heritage until his Carrier had contacted him years ago and passed on the title of Lord of Praxus to Ratchet; the _only_ creation of Lord Spire.

"Ya know Ratch, if it's bothering ya so much I can remake them for ya." Wheeljack offered as his servo traced the deep gash upon his lovers back struts in a gentle but loving caress. At his words he felt Ratchet sigh before his beloved shook his head in denial. Wheeljack pressed a kiss to Ratchet's audio to calm the different emotions he felt flicker through their bond; Wheeljack shamelessly enjoyed the way he could make the Medic shiver at his touch.

"'Jack? That's not what's got me worried." Ratchet pointed out softly, rolling his shoulders in semblance for his lover to stop teasing the scars ― they _were_ sensitive. He settled down again when Wheeljack rested his servos on Ratchet's shoulder plates instead; a warm chassis pressing up against him from behind had Ratchet humming in approval and enjoyment. It was easy to give in when Wheeljack was like this, it wasn't hot and quick ― it was slow and gentle. A comfort Ratchet rarely allowed himself to indulge in.

"Then what is it mah love?" Ratchet vented a tired sigh sighed, his Carrier bond reaching out to touch against every one of his creations' bonds to find some reassurance that they were all fine and in hopes of calming his own foreboding. Leaning back against Wheeljack for more touch, Ratchet offlined his optics before the tell tale burning of emotion could overwhelm him from the inside. His legendary temper was for once calm and replaced by his much more vulnerable side ― the side that feared for his sparklings constantly and the fact that his two youngest were separated from him by an entire city length of four hundred and three decikilometres. That was more than enough to make him _very_ uneasy. Never let it be said that Lord Ratchet didn't love his creations, never let it even be _speculated_.

"It's Prowl and 'Streak. I haven't been able to get through to the lately and Prowl's emotions have been pressing against mine in turmoil and uncertainty; something big is coming 'Jack and I don't know how to protect them." Ratchet admitted, his helm falling against his chest plates to hide his expression and fear. He stiffened slightly when little kisses of reassurance was pressed against the tip of his chevron before Ratchet felt himself relaxing and giving in to his bondmates concern and undying love. It was something he tried to never express in front of others but Ratchet _needed_ Wheeljack as much as Wheeljack _needed_ him constantly.

"Ratch, Jazz is with both of them. That base cannot be safer than it already is; ya know Jazz 'nd he truly cares fer Prowl 'nd now inadvertently Bluestreak as well. He won't let anything happen te our Prowl 'nd Prowl will not let anything happen te Bluestreak either."Wheeljack pointed out calmly and Ratchet was still for a long few kliks before he turned slightly, his chevron now resting against Wheeljack's spark chamber as Wheeljack's arms curled around him and welcomed him into a gentle embrace.

"That's what worries me 'Jack; will Prowl be able to understand this? What if he gets hurt? He's still _so_ young 'Jack..." Wheeljack sighed and hugged his beloved's helm tighter to his spark chamber. His servos running down Ratchet's chassis in a show of comfort.

"Ya have te let go sometime Ratch, let the Sweetspark make his own choices 'nd mistakes. But I think he ain't makin' one with Jazz, ya know very well how it is fer bondmates. 'Sides we were not much older than he is now Ratch, in fact ya already Carried Sunny 'nd Sides by then 'nd ya haven't regretted it since." Ratchet nodded, his spark settling a bit at Wheeljack's flood of loving emotions and calming words. He didn't protest when Wheeljack pulled him to his feet and back towards the recharge berth. He was used to this and a smile flitted across his faceplates fleetingly.

"Okay, I'll come back to the berth." Ratchet chuckled. His concern now pushed aside but he couldn't help but not shake the feeling that something very bad was going to happen and Prowl and Bluestreak were in terrible danger; all he could now do was pray to Primus and hope that his little sparklings were protected against evil...

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl gasped when he was dropped on the soft berth in his quarters, intakes hitching at the sudden unexpected movement. He desperately wanted to whine at the fact that his servos were still bound by stasis cuffs and restricted his range of movement but Jazz, he found, was a real tease when he wanted to be. This time he _did_ let out a whine when a sharp visor observed him intensely. The erotic implications of being that visor's sole object of attention made Prowl strain against his restraints to be closer to his lover whilst heat started flitting across his plating again. His doorwings fluttered under the scrutiny and out of temptation Prowl couldn't help but spread his pedes in invitation, it was only range of movement that he could still manage. His actions alone got a low hiss from Jazz's intakes despite the embarrassment that crept across Prowl's cheek plates. It was encouraging sound that left the tactician nearly keening in delight.

"Hmmm, Prowler. Ya look so good like tha'. 'M going ta ravage ya Prowler; ya won' know yer designation 'fter _only_ mine." Prowl moaned at the melodic, seductive purr that Jazz's voice promised him. Prowl however frowned when Jazz only sat at the edge of the berth; that sharp visor never once leaving his form. Claw like fingers traced across Prowl's pedes teasingly and the Praxian whined softly, he never even considered that bottom of his pedes could be that sensitive to touch. When another swipe of clever servos had Prowl trying to press into the touch, Jazz merely chuckled and pulled away teasingly. The act pulled an undignified sound from Prowl's vocalizer that Prowl belatedly realized made him sound very needy and unsure of himself.

"Ya know Prowler, Blue said somethin' 'lier tha' intrigues meh." Prowl squirmed when Jazz abruptly settled between his pedes; even pushing them wider to accommodate himself better. Prowl f keened with need when a stray kiss was placed deliberately on his sensitive chevron. The shocks of pleasure jumping across his armour plating left him reeling at the unstable feeling.

Resting their helms together in an intimate lover's touch, Jazz hummed his approval when Prowl cradled his body against his own by winding his pedes around his thighs. Prowl had to dim his optics to take in Jazz's bright visor above him. For some reason he squirmed at the passionate sensations of just being so close. Gentle fingers rested against Prowl's cheek plates, tracing the seam there before one claw like finger pressed against his lip plates. Prowl parted his lip plates on instinct and suckled on the digit when the sharp claw like finger pressed inside his mouth. The sly digit pulled in and out before it caressed his glossa with small scratches. Prowl whined around the digit, those scratches send jolts of electricity racing down Prowl's spine and he arched into the body above his own. With every passing klik Prowl was finding it more and more difficult to think coherently.

"Blue said tha' ya only_ ever_ saved yerself fer meh, 's tha' true Prowler?" At Jazz's declaration Prowl stiffened ― wondering just when Bluestreak had let that tit bit of information go. His cheeks were now properly heated with an Energon blush and when he tried to pull away to hide his optics, Jazz's finger in his mouth and the others gripping his chin components refused to let go to allow him the luxury. Instead Prowl tried to offline his optics but the slightly painful scratch against his sensitized glossa stopped than in its tracks.

"Hmmm, Prowler. 'M not gonna let ya go 'f ya don' tell meh." At that, Jazz's claw like servo retracted from his mouth. Instead it slyly slid down his chassis before it started rubbing at the tip of a sensitive doorwing, pinching and manipulating the sensor node at the very tip. The effect was instantaneous, Prowl arched into Jazz's chassis over fraught with seeing out more contact. He was restricted however and the frustration was already building in him.

"There 's no shame in savin' yerself fer somemech, Prowler. Tis romantic, Ah jus' didn't peg ya fer a subspace romantic." Prowl pouted at the words but parted his lips plates to allow his glossa to wet his suddenly nervously dry lips. He was working on building up the courage to admit to the truth but Jazz was making it very difficult.

Jazz however waited patiently, a lazy servo tracing random patterns on the armour plating just above Prowl's spark chamber before lying his helm on Prowl's spark chamber to listen to thrum of an unsteady spark pulse ― a pure indication that Prowl was both excited and nervous. His visor took in every movement Prowl made, even humming a bit when Prowl's glossa peaked out to wet dry lip plates. Jazz wanted nothing more than to follow it back inside that warm, wet mouth but he held himself back. He wanted an answer to know what he was dealing with, if Prowl was not regularly active with his valve and spike then this was going to be much the same as their first time together.

"Answer Prowler, Ah _need_ te know. 'S important Swee'spark." Jazz breathed, the cool air dispersing across Prowl's chest armour and making the young Praxian shiver at the strange sensation. Jazz was just happy that he managed to keep his voice steady despite the arousal he felt flitting across his own plating. Being in sight of those smears of blue across white thigh plating was not helping his self control either, he wanted nothing more than to ravage Prowl with everything he had.

"Y-yes." Prowl finally stammered, his spark racing at his own admission. The sensual but genuine smile that his admission got from Jazz was enough for Prowl feel relieved. The sudden touch of sensual lips against his own had Prowl parting his lip plates when a glossa swiped across his lips sensually. A devious glossa invaded his mouth to tease and tangle with his own, the action had Prowl reeling with the taste and moaning at the pleasing sensations that raced up his spinal struts. His vocalizer was spitting static in protest when the intense passionate kiss was broken he stilled however when he noticed a string of lubricant still connecting their glossa together. Prowl moaned wantonly at the image it made, burning it into the back of his processor as he truly began struggling against his bonds.

"P-P-please Jazz!" Prowl yelped; his plea somewhat forgotten when Jazz sidled down his chassis and pulled the tip of a quivering doorwing into his mouth. Prowl keened, his doorwings were still sensitive from where Bluestreak had touched them and he wanted to pull away at the hyper sensitive feeling. As a distraction to Jazz's actions he finally executed the interfacing protocols that were screaming at him. His interfacing panel sliding open at another swipe of a clever glossa.

"Sit up, Prowler. Le' yer doorwings move on their own, Ah wan' to see them." Prowl's helm was moving from side to side at the pleasure induced haze he found himself but he scowled at his lover when those words finally made sense, intakes panting and whining he finally forced a legitimate demand from his lips.

"R-r-release my servos f-first, c-can't balance ― p-p-please." Prowl added a plea as an afterthought. An astrosecond later, claw like servos wrapped around his wrists and a resounding click transversed through the atmosphere ― a subtle clank sounded through the berth chamber where the stasis cuffs hit the floor. Jazz's addictive chuckle vibrated against Prowl's chassis as the slightly larger framed mech pulled Prowl into a sitting position ― Prowl's sensitive doorwings flaring and fluttering out behind him, they were thanking him for the release of pressure against the sensitive sensor nodes. Before Prowl could say thank you, a finger forced itself into his well lubricate valve. Whatever Prowl was going to say had died on his lip plates as his helm flew back at the sudden stimulus that wracked his entire body.

"Yer a crafty one Swee'spark, next time Ah'll punish ya in 'nother way." Prowl keened, his valve clenching around the slow thrusting finger. Sharp denta attacked his sensitive neck cables with nibbles and bites that had Prowl pressing into the touch and bucking his hips in order to get more of those sensations.

"So wet, so tight Prowler, Ah can see tha' ya're a valve mech, tha's ok Ah'll be 'appy te assist ya in that'." Prowl flushed at that statement clearly embarrassed that Jazz had figured it out. Prowl found his now free servos digging into the berth coverings to try and ground himself from all the pleasure. His embarrassment expressed by the soft choke in his intakes and his doorwings flaring out protectively behind him before they drooped in trembling movements. A stray servo reached across his back to stroke at the sensitive hinges and soon Prowl relaxed, doorwings settled and his tense shoulders relaxed until another sly finger pressed into his tight valve. His instinctively tightened his valve around the delicious intruder. This felt so much better than when he himself did it...

"Nggh...Jaaazzz! P-p-please...n-need m-more!" Prowl moaned long and low, a charge was already flitting across his armour plating incessantly and was driving more lubricant to be released into his valve. When Jazz pulled out his fingers to add another Prowl felt the rush of liquid down his thighs, staining his white plating and most dripping onto the berth coverings below. When the tip of his chevron was pulled into Jazz's mouth components to be suckled ― the tactician arched into Jazz, nuzzling that mouth incessantly as his doorwings strained on their hinges in compensation to the fluttering pleasure that shot through his circuits.

"P-please! Jazz!" Prowl pleaded, the three claw like fingers scratched across sensor nodes deep in his valve pleasurably and when those fingers started to pleasure him in earnest Prowl's own servos was now pawing at Jazz's plating for every hot spot he could find, fingers pinching sensory horns when Jazz pressed into a nerve bundle that had Prowl keening in ultimate bliss. His action got a low hiss from Jazz's vocalizer as Jazz pressed their chassis together firmly, a stray servo tracing headlights and his sensitive bumper to tease his charge into a higher frequency. Now, when Jazz retracted his fingers Prowl bucked his hips to try and follow them; whimpering shamelessly at the sudden loss. He felt _so_ empty but that was quickly silence by the delicious feeling of Jazz's spike pressing into his valve slowly. He hadn't even heard the Spec Op's agent's interfacing panel slide open but the feeling of his satisfying spike inside of him was enough for Prowl to throw his helm back and let a low moan escape his vocalizer with bursting static.

"S' beautiful Prowler! Clean them fer meh." Jazz purred, lubricated fingers pressing against Prowl's mouth plates with intent that Prowl didn't quite understand but he nodded, parting his mouth plates sensually.

The young tactician did as he was told with no reservations about tasting himself, pulling lubricant smeared claw like fingers into his mouth one by one to clean them ― even whining a bit at the erotic thought of tasting himself. Jazz moaned at the sight, his visor flashing deep blue at the sight and feel of Prowl's sensual glossa suckling and swirling around every digit individually. His own servo capturing Jazz's black servo by the wrist components to keep it still as he worked his glossa across smooth plating. Little did Prowl know that Jazz was recording every nanoklik of the display, the innocence in those dimmed optics whilst that mouth did something so obscene was enough to get the Spec Ops agent's cooling whining almost as loud as Prowl's own.

The fact that his spike was already buried in that tight heat left his processor reeling and Jazz's immense self control was almost snapped in half. Once the last digit was let go with a small pop Jazz lost it, his servos now gripped Prowl's chassis close to his as he began to move. The sounds of delight his Prowler made did not escape his hearing and he smiled seductively, pressing sweet kisses across a fore helm when the young Praxian whined and struggled against the grip but Jazz did not relent. He wanted to take it slow, express what he was feeling with actions rather than words. There were no words to express what Prowl made him feel, but he could try to show him and so far it was working, especially going by the way Prowl was nuzzling him tenderly whilst a stream of begging and pleading never ceased coming from his vocalizer.

"Swee'spark, relax a bit. Ya're tensin' too much, ya're gonna hurt yerself." Jazz cautioned, servos rubbing soothing circles across his lover's lower back struts. The touch meant to sooth and protect.

Prowl found obeying those words very difficult at that moment in time but his doorwings eventually fell from their tense position and his shoulder struts finally relaxed and Prowl soon found himself hanging on for ride, pleasure overwhelming him completely and utterly that he was feeling guilty for just taking the pleasure rather than giving it. His EM field crashed outwards to show Jazz just what he was feeling and that he was so close to losing himself completely in the Kaonian's touch and ministrations. His doorwings quivered and fluttered constantly to try and disperse some of the heavy charge that was racing across his circuits but they were failing spectacularly. Prowl swore that they only kept moving to keep Jazz's attention on him completely but then again his doorwings always expressed his emotions better than he ever could ― it was best just to let them do what they wanted rather than to fight them. Prowl keened when a particular deep thrust reached a sensor node deep inside of him that had been aching for stimulation for a very long time. The resulting pleasure had Prowl tensing again, doorwings trembling as blue charge arced and built between their chassis at Jazz's steady, pleasure inducing rhythm.

"Jaaazzz! Nggh..." Prowl whined, he couldn't hold on anymore but he valiantly tried to for his beloved. It was becoming too much and just when he was forced to let go he felt Jazz leaning against his audial receiver, a shudder working its way through his body when a sly glossa slid over the sensitive sensor before he moved on to nibble at his chevron. Prowl cried out, not understanding why Jazz found that part of him so fascinating just as his fluttering doorwings.

"Le' go Prowler, don' hold back." And Prowl did, his optics whiting out at his pleasured_ scream_ of pure abandonment. Back arching as his doorwings moved with him to form a perfect bow of pleasure, he was barely aware of Jazz stiffening above him but his hyper sensitive valve tightened further around Jazz's spike at the rush of scorching hot transfluid deep inside of him. Prowl's helm was thrown back but not before he felt the sharp pain of denta digging into his chevron in a claim of ownership and denting the metal ― again. The simple action of combining pain and pleasure getting an even louder yelp from the Praxian before he was lowered to the soft berth gently, his frame hot to the touch and twitching at the intensity of his overload. He didn't even fight when Jazz chassis slid down his own so that a sensory horn was pressed against his spark chamber possessively.

0oooo00oooo0

"C'mon, Prowler. Up ye ge'." Prowl whined, his systems were running slow and sluggish and Jazz shaking his shoulder and scratching at his doorwings to awaken him from a very satisfied recharge had Prowl trying to burrow himself deeper into the berth ― a shudder working through his body as the berth coverings were pulled from him. Lazy optics onlined with a deep scowl that only sent the saboteur into a laughing fit. Prowl barely managed to push himself onto trembling elbow struts before he was swept up into strong arms, a loud yelp of surprise leaving him as he was cradled protectively against a warm spark chamber.

"We need ta ge' cleaned Swee'spark; t's almost time fer us te leave and Ah don' wan' te get ye in trouble with yer Carrier." Prowl nodded, his optics observing the mess that his chassis was in to check for himself the mess he was. Smears of transfluid and lubricant decorating his white thigh plating in glaring obvious statements of their previous activities, paint transfers of blue, white, red and black were prominently standing out on his hip plating and streaked across his overly warm chassis. Wincing when a sting of pain assaulted his processor whilst his chevron rubbed against Jazz's spark chamber. He reached a trembling servo up to trace the obvious dent in his red chevron and frowned deeply, a sigh leaving his intakes with a rush of warm air.

"Jazz? Why did you dent my chevron? Last time I got a three joor lecture from Ratchet about the etiquette of proper interfacing and why one _never_ leaves any visible marks." Prowl whined out, he was sure that he would get the same lecture when they arrived back at the Iacon base ― which Prowl assumed would be sometimes time soon considering he was just pinged with transfer data along with Bluestreak. He could feel the excitement rushing across their twin bond ― it nearly knocked the air right out of his intakes. He sent a soothing touch across their bond in acknowledgement before turning his attention back to Jazz just as the Spec Ops agent chuckled at his declaration but said nothing to defend himself.

The private wash racks of his quarters were silent and when Prowl was placed on his pedes he swayed slightly as his equilibrium chips had yet to stabilize themselves. Luckily Jazz gripped him around his waist before he could fall to the ground.

"Easy there Prowler, don' wan' ya te hurt yerself." Jazz purred against a sensitive audial receiver; his servo reaching around Prowl to switch on the solvent spray. The heady warmth of the spray was soothing and Prowl leaned back into Jazz, his processor spinning with all the information he had received since yesterorn. Jazz had shown up just as he had been interfacing with Bluestreak and talked to him in his office, the things he had revealed made Prowl giddy. Jazz wanted to bond with him and was courting him like was said to be done in olden times, being the gentle mech that never asked much of the courtee but gave as much as was needed. At that Prowl turned his helm to place a soft chaste kiss on Jazz's lip components in a gesture of thanks and acceptance.

"Thank you for choosing me." Prowl said timidly, doorwings fluttering when Jazz gave him a genuine smile and a soothing caress to his cheek plates and purred out his answer of 'my pleasure'. After a while of standing beneath the spray, Jazz settled them both on the raised dais as he used a brush to get rid of the more stubborn dirt and Prowl returned the favour with tender touches and decelerations of love. The solvent stopped after a while and Jazz reached for the polish and cloth, pulling Prowl to kneel with his doorwings splayed before him. Pressing soothing touches to Prowl's back struts to calm him.

"'M just gonna polish yer doorwings Prowler, ya can do the res' of yerself." Prowl eventually nodded and relaxed, this time there was nothing evocative about the touches ― it was soothing and relaxing his taxed systems that he didn't realize Jazz had taken over polishing the rest of him.

"Jazz?" Prowl began softly.

"Hmmm?" Jazz hummed in query, his work meticulous and making beautiful black and white plating shining in the wash racks light.

"I never got to ask you this, Carrier tried to explain it to me but left a lot of things out. Do you know why I was targeted that first time? What happened to them? Will I still be in danger because I don't want you to get hurt because of m―."

"Don' finish tha' sentence Prowler. I won' 'ave yer guilt affectin' what we have." Prowl nodded guiltily around the servo pressing over his mouth to keep him silent. When Jazz retracted his servo Prowl leaned back into Jazz's touch as he continued polishing his armour as if he had not just been asked something so important.

"I S'posse Ratch never told ye exactly why ye were targeted but it has te do with the war; neutral mechs sympathizing with' the Decepticons often target nobles te try 'nd ge' into their favour. Ya bein' one of Lord Ratchet's Creations will get them to try harder te harm ya, Ah was lucky te pass by ya when it happened." Jazz admitted, not liking the sudden sombre silence that settled over them. He didn't like talking about this because he knew there was such a big possibility that he had been too late that orn and could have never met his sparkmate. It hurt to even think about it and he also didn't Prowl to know just what exactly he had done to that particular Decepticon sympathizing group.

He could still feel the satisfying slide of their spent Energon as it dripped from his servos after the job was done. He had ended joors of brutal and cold torture by doing as much damage as his anger had allowed, causing as much pain as he possibly could. Their bodies were never found and Jazz took pleasure in the efficiency of his work, knowing that that was what he was _programmed_ to do. He _was_ Cybertron's highest ranking underground and aboveground assassin after all. It had barely taken him a cycle to gather the information from one of their group and his silent assassination programming accompanied by his conscience suppressant had dealt the fatal blows by his own hand on each and every one of the twelve mechs. He had watched with silent satisfaction as his sharp claws had extended to rip out main Energon lines and cut seamlessly into armour plating until he severed hidden circuits and important Energon feeling tanks. Taking pleasure in the fear that shimmered in their optics as he finished what he had set out to do. Afterwards, they were sent to the smelting pits ― Never. To. Be. Seen. Again.

"Ya don' hav' te worry 'bout them ever coming after ye 'gain, Prowler. Ah took care of it tha' same orn. 'Nd don' ya eve' assume Ah'll ge' 'urt because of ya. Ah'm a Spec Ops agent, no Spec Ops Director now Prowler, Ah _can_ look after m'self. T's ya Ah'm worried will ge' 'urt because of meh." Jazz finished, motioning for Prowl to turn around so that he could start polishing his front. Prowl obeyed wordlessly as he went over the words Jazz had just spoken; something about the cold words of 'Ya don' hav' te worry 'bout them...' caused a minute shiver to attack his systems but he pushed that aside. He wasn't afraid of Jazz and he wouldn't be afraid of staying with him either.

"Tha' was all a long time ago Prowler, let's forget 'bout it 'nd look towards the future."

0oooo00oooo0

"Prowl! I missed you, I know I only saw you last nightly orn but I still missed you ― you're my beloved brother after all. I don't know what Jazz did to you last night but I promise you I've never felt such arousal and blatant pleasure slip through our bond before. I had to hide from my accompanying officer because I nearly overloaded myself just by the sensations that you sent through the bond. But I'm glad ―" Bluestreak rambled on; taking his twin into his arms to check if he was alright. Apart from an obvious dent in his chevron there was no damage and he breathed a sigh of relief. His doorwings fluttering wildly behind him, he was feeding off of his brother's happiness and projecting it outward for all to see. His arms tightening around Prowl's form in a crushing embrace, he was so happy and when Prowl returned the sentiment by winding his own arms around his back Bluestreak's spark danced happily in its casing. When Prowl bodily relaxed against his embrace he thought he might have a crash from all the giddiness that assaulted his processor.

"Bluestreak!" Prowl exclaimed horrified at what his brother had just said. "I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to inconvenience you." Prowl stammered, mortified that Jazz had heard everything Bluestreak had just said. A deep pink Energon blush decorated his cheek plates in pure embarrassment, he had thought that he had closed his bond with Bluestreak tightly enough so that his twin wouldn't be overwhelmed by his emotions and sensations across their bond.

"It's okay Prowl! I'm just glad I learned some self control from you, it helped me keep my vocalizer silent at least." Bluestreak admitted with a smile, twining their servos together as he started to pull his brother towards their shared quarters. He had packed their belongings when the two lovers were in the wash racks, he was eager to get home and back to Sire and Carrier. Offering the small metal box to his brother to subspace he gathered his own in his servo before doing the same.

"We're leaving Prowl, we're going back to Carrier and Sire and they already told me that they are expecting us in a cycle. Jazz is here to take us home." Prowl sighed but smiled indulgently at his brother's ramblings ― it was a soothing familiarity to the intense emotions he felt around Jazz.

Jazz, who was a few pedesteps behind them, observed the interplay between the two brother's with a hidden smile. It was the first time he saw Prowl so relaxed around another mech that wasn't him or Ratchet. Those tense doorwings, gleaming white and black from his thorough polish earlier, drooped lower and fluttered happily behind him. That movement gave Jazz a wicked idea however when he saw the mirroring movement of Bluestreak's doorwings; and Jazz admittingly would do anything for that fantasy to be executed.

"Ya know, Blue." Jazz began, waiting until he had the red and grey Praxian's full attention before continuing. "Had Ah known ya woul' be that' affected by our playin' yesterorn Ah woul' 'ave invited ya te join us. Do ya think ya wan' te join us next time though?" Jazz asked slyly, a seductive smile splitting his faceplates at the mere thought of bedding both twins; another shot of arousal screamed across his plating by the fact that Prowl spluttered, an aroused, embarrassed blush decorating his cheek plates whilst Jazz heard the distinctive click of two sets of cooling fans spinning to live.

"W-well, I-if it's fine with Prowl then I'll join in next time." Bluestreak stuttered and Jazz chuckled heartily, rounding the corner with a twin on either side of him now. He didn't think twice about gripping both of their servos in his own, sly claw like finger teasing sensitive wrist components first in a flirtatious movement before he twined their fingers together in a lovers touch. The fun was only beginning.

"Hmmm, don' worry 'bout Prowler, Blue. Ah'll deal with' 'im 'f he has any objections." Jazz claimed jokingly, only to come to a complete halt. His helm tilted to the side as he listened for the sound he had just caught flitting across his sensory horns. A frown marred his faceplates as he tuned his sensory horns higher to catch that distinctive whine again. His sudden tenseness seemed to stall his companions before bleeding across them as well and Jazz was glad for once that they hadn't started asking questions yet. He was listening intently at what he had heard or rather what he was trying to hear again. It was so faint and quiet that he almost missed it but the faint whistle and whine of an engine was unmistakable. It wasn't coming from inside the Autobot complex, no it was coming from so far off and was so high pitched that he thought he had imagined it completely.

Holding a finger to his lip components in a symbol to silence the twins, he crept forward ― already searching for the hidden Spec Op's tunnel entrance. He wasn't taking chances this time and just as he thought that something didn't sit right with his spark a large explosion ripped through the base. An undignified curse left his vocalizer as he moved into action, the Spec Ops agent gripped Prowl and Bluestreak's servos tighter against his own and dragged them forward in a hurry. The ground shook with the force of the explosion but Jazz barely noticed it, his natural rhythmic movements kept him from losing his balance just as his companions fought hard but managed to keep theirs. Luckily doorwinged mech's extra sensory panels could keep them balanced and focused easier than normal mechs could. For that Jazz was infinitely grateful...

"Ah wan' ya te focus solely on meh, we're not stopping fer anythin'. We need te move." Jazz ordered, knowing that his rank would forced them both to obey and despite the fact that he hated using rank if he needed to use it in this situation, he would. His laid back demeanour completely evaporated as his latent protocols kicked in, pedesteps nearly running towards the hidden room a few steps ahead of them. Pulling the two mechs inside the room before he activated the secret code for the false wall to slide aside, revealing a hidden tunnel underground. It ran the entire length of the City of Praxus and nomech but a highly ranking Spec Ops agent would know of its existence. The moment they stepped into the tunnel a barrage of heavy fire power and hundreds of missiles exploded throughout the Autobot base and the City of Praxus, thousands of mechs would have died from that alone and in that instance.

"We hav' te keep movin!" Jazz yelled, his priority was getting these two safely back to Iacon and he would do anything in his power to do so. Nothing would stop him.

The legendary City of Praxus had come under vicious attack; this time there was _no_ mercy for any mech. The Decepticons cruelty had just been blatantly shown as a play for control and power over Cybertron ― even if they used fear as a result.

0oooo00oooo0

Ratchet yawned widely a medical tool, now thoroughly cleaned, and was carefully placed in its correct slot with great care. Just as he was about to reach for the next one the Medic stilled, frowning at the strange sensation skittering across his spark. After a klik of nothing else, Ratchet shrugged and ignored the strange panicking sensation and picked up another tool to start cleaning it. It was a mistake on his part as a doubled sensation of panic slammed through his Creator-Creation Union, the sudden influx of emotions not his own had the medic clutching at his spark chamber as he sunk to the floor. His pedes no longer strong enough to support his weight as he was completely drained, fear slammed through his processors at such a fast pace that the Medic was reeling at the emotional input. A blinding ache exploding across his processors.

"Prowl, Bluestreak!" He whined, his bond with his sparklings reaching out for them but there was no answer. How long he stayed there in silent pain, the noble mech didn't know and even when Ratchet was lifted from the floor by a very familiar set of servos and placed gently on one of his own berths, he unsteadily gripped at the only comfort available to him. A red and golden warrior beseeching him to tell them what was wrong but he waved it aside, even when their own panic was not making this any easier for him.

"Sides! Find Prime! Tell him to get into contact with the Praxus base, Sunstreaker, don't you dare go anywhere." Ratchet yelled, his servo gripping his oldest creation's wrist to keep him from following his brother. He could already feel Wheeljack rushing through the winding hallways to get to them but he ignored it for the moment, focusing rather on his eldest. He needed to keep Sunstreaker calm...

"Carrier? What's wrong? Did something bad happen to Prowl like last..." Sunstreaker's panicked laced words trailed off and Ratchet cringed as he realized that Sunstreaker had just come across the panic from his siblings' bond. Ratchet felt guilty that Sunstreaker's mere presence calmed him immensely. It also reminded him as he felt his creations panic on both ends that they were going to be looking to him and Wheeljack for stability now. Pulling the most insecure and sensitive of his creations, onto the berth beside him ― Ratchet urged Sunny to lay down with his helm in his lap. He needed the assurance that his creations were still fine and like Pit was he letting this one out of his sight now. His Carrier protocols were already screaming at him to do something but there was nothing he could do right now, he was too far away to help his youngest set of twins.

"Shhh, Sunshine." Ratchet cooed when he felt Sunstreaker's intake hitching as he figured out what was happening with all the panic surrounding him. The sudden whine from his eldest's vocalizer did not deter Ratchet from his work in calming his beloved; he needed to keep them all calm at the same time. To Ratchet it felt like his spark was being torn in two very different directions; his bond with Prowl was weak because of the large distance that separated them but the empathetic connection was still strong enough to send his processors reeling with the influx of pain and panic.

0oooo00oooo0

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate it. If you enjoyed it, please leave me a review and a rating! I would really appreciate it and thanks for the positive review's I received before! It was what drove me to make this into a multi-chap fic. I hope you guys don't mind that.

That's it for now my lovely duckies.

Yours Sincerely

DF


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Into the Dark

**Chapter:** Chapter 3

**Fandom:** Transformers

**Continuity:** G1

**Pairing/s:** Jazz x Prowl, Sunny x Prowler x Sides (spark merge)

**Rating:** NC - 17

**Summary:** Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...

**Chapter Summary:** Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are very worried about their littlest brother and when the shuttle sent to help them finally arrives they notice a big difference in Prowl. He is in tattered pieces, and with Blue away with their Sire it is up to them to comfort Prowl the best way they know how. Share something important to stabilize his unbalanced spark...

**Warnings:** Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers & Sires, smut, explicit explanation of sticky smut, twincest, tactile overloads, incest and Plug 'n Play.

**N/B:** Wow, this one took me a while to finnish and it was fighting me every step of the way but I'm glad I've finished it. I had to put a bit of Sunny and Sides in this, they are one of my favourite characters and I promise that after my Sunstreaker x Ratchet comfort fic I'll be posting a tie in with this story as to Prowl's lovely wild night spent between a proper twin sandwich. It'll be done in a week or two and three to four for the next chapter of this to come out then.

It'll be posted under the name Nightly Orns to Remember.

Chapter Notes:

Nanoklik - 1 second

Klik - 1 minute

Breem - 8 minutes

Joor - 1 Hour

Cycle 18 Hours

Orn - Day

Metacycle - 6 years

Vorn - 83 years

"..." Talking

**"..."** Comm. line

_Thoughts_ or_ Emphasis_ on a word

~...~ Medical Hardline/ Hardline interfacing

_**::Sweetspark::**_ Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union

* * *

0oooo00oooo0

"Carrier?" Sunstreaker yelled suddenly, his patience was wearing thin and his spark was pulsing rapidly in his spark chamber. The empty Medbay was silent in their concern as their little family tried to gather their wits about them on what to do. Sideswipe, his beloved twin, was in recharge with his helm in their Sire's lap. Faceplates grim even in recharge but the relief was palpable now that official contact with Prowl had finally been made.

They had gotten through to an obscure, but knowable encryption code. Jazz hadn't been able to say much, only that he, Prowl and Bluestreak and had made it to the checkpoint safely. The shuttle that Optimus Prime had deployed with the intent of bringing help and returning with the injured, they had managed to make it to safety just as the Decepticon attack had started winding down. It appeared that Jazz had been hurt the worst, a laser blast straight through his shoulder plating and nearly severed an Energon line but Prowl had managed to save him.

It had been a Pit of a stressful orn and Sunstreaker was grateful to Carrier Ratchet, otherwise the front-line warrior might have gone on a rampage to try and find answers that nomech seemed to have by now. After he had first realized what had happened, Sunstreaker had truly been afraid that they were going to really lose their little brothers this time. It was a logical conclusion to make as the last time he had seen his Carrier and Sire act like this was when he was just a youngling and one of his brothers had been stolen from his crib in the dead of the nightly orn. Ratchet was perpetually trying to keep everyone calm and Sire Wheeljack was a calm, strong presence that seemed to keep everyone together.

"Shhh my Sunshine. They'll be here in a joor and a half." Ratchet reassured, one of his red servos briefly brushing against Sunstreaker's as he flitted past his eldest son to go and check a tray of emergency tools for any imperfections. In the short report Jazz had managed to give them, he stated that most of them had gotten injured in their hurried escape. Whether it had been from a Decepticon attack or something else, he didn't say but what he was sure to admit was that the Decepticons had shown no mercy ― they were burning Praxus to the ground. It seemed that Jazz was hit the worst from a stray missile and a laser blast. Sunny and Sides hadn't mentioned anything but they believed that Prowl had been hurt too; their connection with Prowl was stronger than the Creator-Creation Union. Knowing their brother as they did, Sunstreaker was wary about that pain Prowl was hiding something from their Carrier and that was never a good thing. They had been lucky enough to get that garbled report over an old encrypted comm. Channel; lucky that they could prepare for the injured.

Sunstreaker took as much comfort from Ratchet as he was offered, even the smallest of touches were calming his spark. He also knew that this was a way for Ratchet to keep himself calm. It also kept him focused on something else other than the destruction he so desperately wanted to wreak on the closest mech that crossed him the wrong way. This brought back bad memories for all of them, the fear of losing a member of their family was excruciating for such a close knit unit and Sunstreaker was doing his best to not lose himself in the process. His programming was a bit different that his brother's and even their creators'; he took something like this as a personal insult and anyone stupid enough to cross his path would most likely not survive. This was why Carrier Ratchet always kept him close when something like this happened. It also didn't help that he had inherited Ratchet's extremely dangerous temper...

The tension was almost palpable and when Ratchet pushed a styllis and a drawing pad into his servo, telling him to keep himself busy, Sunstreaker didn't protest. He took a seat on the closest berth to the now bustling Medic, cleared his processor of all the worry he felt and literally put styllis to datapad. There were so many memories to choose from but what he decided to sketch was something that even his creators hadn't known about.

The night when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been introduced to their lost sibling, Bluestreak, it had been an orn they would never forget. The sight of seeing Bluestreak and Prowl entwined in their first passionate spark merge had the artist already enthralled. He had been meaning to draw that scene for a while now, Prowl's slight frame on his servos and knee joints with Bluestreak behind him ― assured but strong fingers caressing sensitive doorwings knowingly in a show of pleasure and acceptance. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had only meant to show them the necessity of keeping their twin bond strong and how to deepen their understanding of each other. They never expected to become audiences to an erotic show of two very impassioned doorwinged mechs. A shudder worked its way down Sunstreaker's spine and he bit his bottom lip plate.

Smiling at the memory and the effect it had on Sunstreaker, the eldest of the four brothers set to work in forgetting everything around them. Even when his twin, Sideswipe, joined him on the medical berth a stray helm resting against his shoulder plates. Tired optics observing the image that was taking shape on his brother's drawing pad. He gave a lopsided grin that was hidden with love and a small shiver of interface desire.

_**::Hmmm, Sunny. I can remember that night, in fact I don't want to forget it.::**_ Sideswipe purred over their wide open bond and the golden warrior glanced up at his twin with a hidden smirk and a gentle smile that agreed to his statement. His attention now split between his work and his brother.

_**::Can I have it when you're done Sunstreaker?::**_ Sideswipe begged, optics flashing with the memory his twin had evoked in his cashe.

_**::Ah-uh Sides, I'm putting it up in our quarters when I'm done.::**_ Sunstreaker returned, his concentration shifting to another memory he had drifting through his processor. Damn it! He wanted Prowl between them again, that orn had been one of his best memories. He had _never_ seen his younger brother lose himself like that, the cold demeanour he tended to show was nothing compared to the heated facade he displayed in the berth. It happened only about a vorn ago and by complete accident and who knew the uptight tactician had an effect like that after two cubes of good high grade. Sideswipe mewled as images of what Sunny had been thinking about flickered across their wide open bond. His cooling fans whirring to life as he tried desperately to keep his arousal from becoming too noticeable.

_**::Bro, you are **__**pure**__** evil.::**_ Sideswipe mumbled, he was having a problem bringing his interfacing protocols under control now and Sunny wasn't helping. He had almost forgotten that particular orn but now that he was once again reminded of how his little brother was when he was unintelligible with overcharge, he wanted nothing more than to do it again ― sober this time.

His optics caught sight of his brother's smug smile before it flickered to be replaced by Sunstreaker's customary smirk. Wisely choosing to say nothing, Sideswipe turned his attention back to the sketch his brother was doing. A slight shudder working its way down his back struts, was his brother doing this on purpose? Sideswipe sighed but did not move from his comfortable perch.

In time they would eventually work out this frustration but for now Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would wait for the little brothers' safe return.

0oooo00oooo0

_**::Please, oh, please Prowl! Please stop that, you're injured too. In fact you're worse off than me.::**_ Bluestreak's voice implored and Prowl snapped his attention towards his twin, overly bright optics narrowed slightly before he went back to work. His field Medi-Kit resting by his knee struts as trembling servos patched the last of Bluestreak's deep gashes with temporary molten metal; it wasn't a perfect fix but it would hold until Ratchet could do more detailed work. His own injuries were much more painful and severe but there was nothing Prowl could do about them, he didn't have the means to work on the broken and bent doorwing that hung on the last its hinge. The angle it was hanging at was painful and every time he moved he could feel it shooting up his spinal struts and race across his spark. The feeling of Energon dripping in rivulets down his back plates in copious amounts made Prowl shudder in revulsion at the strange feeling of his over sensitized panels.

Prowl shifted on his knee struts, trying to stand but the movement alone caused pain to shoot through his processor. His optics squeezing shut before he took a deep vent to try to stabilize himself again. Fingers dug into his kneeling thigh plates to ground himself before he could attempt to stand; a loud hiss of pain exploding from his vocalizer. Prowl was in too much shock to access the more sensitive parts of his programming to shut down the _immense_ sensor array imbedded in his overly sensitive doorwings.

_**::Hush. Blue. I'm fine::**_ Prowl implored and reassured. One of his trembling servos pressing against his brother's cheek seam in a show of brotherly love and offering comfort. _**::It won't be long until we reach Carrier, I can hold out a bit longer too. Besides you and Jazz are more important to me than myself.:**_: Prowl cooed; pushing himself from his crouched position next to Bluestreak Prowl went to check on Jazz. The black and white mech's visor was focused on him; taking in every response he had to movement. A servo, shaking with suppressed pain, rested against his own thigh plating to bring him a semblance of control and comfort when Prowl finally decided to sit down between the two of his companions.

"Ya ok there Prowler?" Jazz's vocalizer huskily inquired. "Tha' doorwing looks painful." Prowl hiccupped softly, not even paying attention to what Jazz was saying. His full attention was completely focused on the dribble of Energon leaking from the field patch he had applied a mere joor ago. It had been a difficult would to patch because of its proximity to a main Energon line and Prowl found himself whimpering. His optics itching with coolant tears, he didn't want to see Jazz hurt. Especially if it could nearly have killed him. Prowl may have been the creation of Cybertron's most coveted Medic and his medical knowledge was vast but Prowl didn't have enough confidence to truly act on that knowledge. Now though he'd probably corner his Carrier and ask him to teach him how to deal with injuries such as this. He needed more than just the brilliant Battle Computer that his Sire had created for him when he was young. His skills as a tactician may have been extraordinary but he needed to be able to do more.

A gentle servo cupped his cheek components, the movement promptly dragging him from his inner most thoughts. Before Prowl knew what was truly happening he was being pulled to lie against Jazz's shoulder. The soothing presence of Jazz so close to him and hearing the Spec Ops Director's spark pulse was settling his panic and feelings of inadequacy.

"T's 'right Prowler, Ah've had worse injuries. Now, jus' ya rest Swee'spark. We're almost there." Prowl was still shivering with shock but he was settling down now. The effects of a rushed escape in Enemy territory had not yet completely faded from his systems. His shoulder rocket launcher was still tingling from where he had fired it into an inspecting Decepticon to clear their escape path. After that though, things became fuzzy. He remembered turning to Jazz to see if he was alright and was promptly attacked by a small mech from behind. Claws had dug into his doorwings and pulled, the pain from the alone had left Prowl falling to his knees. He could still feel the lazy slide of Jazz's Energon as it dripped onto his chest plates from where the saboteur had pushed him to the ground to protect him from a rain of fire.

"Hush Prowler! Stop thinkin' so much! T's over. There's nothin' more we can do." Jazz's words were like a warm caress to his ringing audios and Prowl tried to acknowledge the request but it wasn't helping. If only he had not turned his back on the enemy, if only Jazz hadn't been so eager to save him...

"Enough!" Prowl startled; a serious EM field brushing against his plating ― demanding his systems to calm and forcing him to relax. Bright blue optics looked up at Jazz, frightened by the control he had just felt. He knew that Jazz was strong and dangerous and never before had it occurred to Prowl that he too could eventually push Jazz too far. He didn't want that. Not he didn't want to face Jazz's wrath, it honestly frightened him...

Prowl saw the grim line of Jazz's lip plates and his darkened visor and for the first time Prowl was reminded that this mech had so much more battle experience than him. Understood so much more, had seen so much more destruction and pain that Prowl couldn't even dream of. Yet, in that moment, he was shown a side of Jazz that Prowl hoped to never encounter on the battlefield and still why wasn't he truly afraid?

"Good, now hush. We're here." That was all it took and Prowl shook off the feeling of unease that had sprung up in his spar. Helping Jazz to his pedes as best he could, Prowl gripped his twin's servo for support as he searched for strength. The vigour he had just felt draining from his limbs the moment he was rushed by his Carrier. His spark was still smarting from his mistake earlier, from _all_ of his mistakes but mostly his inability to help Jazz and Bluestreak more than he could have. The moment Prowl felt Ratchet's servos stroke his cheek plate lovingly and sharp optics checking him for pain and panic; Prowl couldn't stop the downturn of his trembling lower lip.

"It wasn't your fault Sweetspark. You cannot save everyone just like I have to let go of my patients too sometimes." Ratchet murmured into his audio, a stray finger pressing against Prowl's back struts to test how far the damage of his broken doorwing had travelled. When he received a yelp of pain to a gentle touch, he vented a sigh in exasperation. Fixing the doorwing was going to take more time than he thought possible. It seemed that the doorwing itself had nearly been pulled from its hinge; the sensory damage alone must have been painful and coupled with internal damage was plentiful but it would just have to wait. Jazz needed to be tended to first; his wound could become serious if it was left a klik too long and Bluestreak could easily be handled by 'Jack. Prowl's repairs was going certainly going to take the longest and Ratchet needed to make sure that his youngest was also seen to as best he could after Jazz.

Ushering his patients inside the Medbay, Ratchet let Prowl and Bluestreak wonder over to their siblings and Sire before he pressed Jazz onto the berth below. His usually scowling features softening as he looked over his patient and realized just what it had been that Jazz gad done for his entire family.

"Thank you for bringing them home." Ratchet whispered softly, a grateful smile tugging at his faceplates before he pushed a sedative into the unusually quiet Spec Ops Director. It wasn't uncommon to have the saboteur so quiet in Ratchet's Medbay but what worried Ratchet was the forlorn, longing, guilt filled gaze directed at his youngest injured frame.

Prowl watched his Carrier work with dimmed optics, trying desperately to ignore his Sire's flitting fingers across his broken doorwing as he numbed sensor nodes and stopped the Energon leak. If this was Ratchet, Prowl was sure that he would have a large wrench sized dent in his helm. It was not going to pretty when Ratchet finally fixed all of them.

"Don't ya ever scare meh like that again Prowl, Bluestreak! I thought I was going te have a sparkbreak!" Wheeljack admonished his two youngest out of deep concern. When he could do no more for Prowl he moved on to Bluestreak, at least this type of damage he could fix. It was only cosmetic, there was nothing broken and no internal damage. Prowl shuddered when he became acutely aware that he was no longer alone on his berth. Two familiar EM fields brushed against his in greeting before two bodies sidled up next to him. Two different helms resting on his shoulder plates as two arms wound possessively around his hip components and offered silent support.

"Yeah, littlest bro! Don't scare us like that, I think Sunny might actually have almost blown a gasket. It took Carrier nearly five breems just to calm him enough to not go on a rage spree." Sideswipe said happily and even when Sunstreaker glared at his twin for the remark, Sideswipe just gave a disarming smile. Prowl felt the glare over his shoulder but wisely decided not to say anything. His already high strung stress and panic wasn't fading and was now promptly replaced by a spark deep sorrow and pain. It was similar to the pain he had been feeling even before the attack on Praxus; only this time it was much more potent. Before he could stop himself he felt his intakes hitching as a single coolant tear sneaked down his cheek and plopped on his thigh plating.

Sunny was the first to notice the change in Prowl. His shared sibling bond filling with regret, remorse and pure helplessness. It mourned than an entire city had been destroyed, their entire home and Prowl had been _forced_ to watch it fall to ruin by the cruelty of war. Sideswiped leaned closer to his brother, their helms briefly touching before Sunstreaker easily manoeuvred Prowl into his lap ― pressing their spark chambers together as he offered a different form of comfort. It was a rare sight but not uncommon when other mechs besides family were not around to intrude.

Prowl keened loudly, optics flickering on and off in an attempt to control his systems. His one doorwing quivering in his sadness. He didn't know what to do, it was feeling hopeless to him and even having Sunstreaker offering such close comfort was not stalling his pain at all. Prowl eventually just overrode his vocalizer illegally so that he wouldn't disturb his Carrier's work on Jazz. His shoulders were shaking and trembling with the immensity of his silent sobs. Sobs that wanted to be heard but were restricted by the code and coolant tears that wanted to fall but were stalled by sheer will. It was giving Prowl an immense processor ache and Sideswipe cooed softly to try and sooth Prowl's distress. He rested a careful servo on Prowl's lower back - skill fully avoiding a broken doorwing - and continued to rub soothing circles on smooth plating. Pushing calm across their connection as best he could.

_**::If Carrier finds out he's doing this to keep quiet, Ratchet's going to kill him.::**_ Sideswipe pointed out discreetly over their bond. They knew very well how Ratchet reacted to stalling one's grief by cutting off a vocalizer and stopping the coolant from flowing out of overheated optics ― just as Prowl was doing now.

_**::I know but what can we do? Telling him to stop it won't defer him, we know him well Sides. He likes to express his pain when no one is around to see him and Carrier and Sire being so close is causing him to lock up.::**_ Sunstreaker pointed out. A yellow servo pressing his brother's white helm against his shoulder plates comfortingly. They needed to keep Prowl calm before he crashed his processor and Battle Computer on top of his broken doorwing. The damage then could take orns to heal. Orns that Prowl probably didn't want to be stuck under their Carrier's strict optics. Sideswipe was whispering sweet nothings in Prowl's audios as he offered his own sort of comfort. It wasn't long when Wheeljack patted Bluestreak's helm in affection, those blue optics were dim as he was most likely trying to calm himself and Prowl over their twin bond. Wheeljack sighed sadly and joined his eldest creations in hope of trying to offer Prowl more comfort. This wasn't the first time he had seen Prowl like this, he could distinctly remember showing up in Kaon a cycle after Ratchet and what he had seen was much like this. Only then Prowl had been hurting over something else.

"Shhh Prowl. I'm sure Jazz will be fine." Wheeljack soothed gently, surprising both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker with his words. Prowl on the other servo didn't feel any less pain but a small sigh of comfort left his intakes and he relaxed more into Sunstreaker ― their residue spark energies synchronizing softly and with familiarly. He could no longer fight, he was too tired.

"Wha?" Sideswipe managed unintelligibly at the words his Sire had spoken and Wheeljack chuckled in amusement. Their audios were ringing with what they had just heard. Prowl was worried about Jazz to that extent? Why hadn't they seen it before? The way he had been gripping the older mech's servo when they had come in, Ratchet's words trying to reassure him...It was now so blatantly obvious. Sideswipe shared a surprised glance with Sunstreaker, not sure exactly how to take the news.

"Ya mean ya didn't know Sides? Wow, Prowl's secretive skills have improved greatly. Jazz approached me an' Ratchet a few orns ago; he's now formally courting Prowl as a prospective bondmate." Wheeljack concluded.

"Prowl and Jazz?"

"When did they meet?" Both twins asked at the same time. In the background, Ratchet's audios turned to the conversation and he smiled sadly. That orn, many, many vorns ago had been both bitter sweet for the entire family.

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl looked down at his pedes, exhaustion spreading through his limbs. His recently fixed, but unpainted, doorwing fluttered weakly under the scrutiny he now found himself under. He didn't like the tension in the room, especially not that he was tired and exhausted. He was ready to bolt and run when a finger pinched the tip of his doorwing. He jerked slightly but did not pull back.

"Ah-ah Prowl! You're not going anywhere! We need to talk and other things." Sunstreaker pointed out, pulling lightly to begin to drag his shy brother behind him by a doorwing. Sideswipe was casually leaning against the Medbay wall with his own pede pulled up and his arms crossed over his chest armour. He gave a disarming smile at Prowl's pleading gaze and nodded in agreement to his brother's terms. Prowl feeling betrayed gave a sudden yelp when Sunstreaker literally began dragging him by one of his most sensitive appendages. The noise was loud enough to startle Ratchet from his recharge where he was sprawled on one of the empty berths. The Medic awoke slowly at first, blue optics cycling online lazily to observe the scene before him and to see what the twins were doing. It seemed that Sunny and Sides had gotten a hold of Prowl and was dragging him away from the berth where Jazz was still in stasis. The sudden pleading gaze his youngest shot him went preferably unnoticed by the Carrier. Prowl leaving with the twins was a good thing.

"Just be careful Sunstreaker his doorwing will still be a bit sensitive. If he comes back hurt, I will hold you responsible." Ratchet eventually shooed them away ― much to Prowl's horror.

Sunstreaker gave a positively evil smile before he continued down the hallway towards his and Sideswipe's quarters. The walk wasn't very far and when the door hissed open; it was to admit the three of them, minus Bluestreak ― who had left with Sire to upgrade his target protocols. Sunstreaker didn't even stop to tell Prowl his destination and immediately dragged Prowl towards the wash racks. Pulling the smaller framed mech under a spray of soft solvent. He had a lot of work to do and Prowl was for once complaint, knowing that this was how Sunstreaker showed his palpable relief that he alright and expressed the words he just couldn't say. Giving a nod of thanks to his brother when he was handed a cloth and a paint dissolver. Sunny was careful in removing the left over streaks of paint on a trembling - recently fixed - doorwing. His fingers traced the freshly buffed welds to check his Carrier's ray and to tease his curiosity as so how sensitive the new sensor array was. When Prowl pulled the doorwing out of his brother's reach with a slight hiss when fingers scraped across freshly welded seams and banged out dents, Sunstreaker stopped his exploration and went back to work.

When Sunny put the paint dissolver away, Prowl leaned heavily against his older brother's chassis. The sensations of Sunstreaker's servos as he worked at cleaning him from helm to pedes left Prowl wanting inside. The feeling of being cared for in such a tender manner made his spark flutter in remembrance. It was much like what Jazz had done for him after their incredible night spend together two orns ago. His optics flickered in his exhaustion as fear pushed across his circuits; what if Jazz never woke up?

That was why he wanted to stay with Jazz until he awoke, he felt that he needed to be there and even Carrier hadn't kicked him out of the Medbay when his injuries had been tended to almost three joors ago. Despite Ratchet's constant reassurances that Jazz was fine and only resting, Prowl staid by his side ― determined to keep his beloved company until he awoke. His spark ached with the mere prospect of Jazz being in pain, now that he was Prowl wanted nothing more than to ease that pain. Why did he feel like this? True he loved Jazz, there was no question about that but why was his spark affected so much? Could they possibly be―.

Guilt and regret was weighed heavily on his doorwings and the sunk low on his back struts. Prowl wanted nothing more than to break free from his sibling's touch and sit by Jazz's side and offer his spark the moment he awoke...

The state he was in himself didn't matter; even when he was so low on Energon that a sparkbond would probably kill him. Even now his fuel depletion was flashing across his HUD in a series of intimate warning. Prowl whimpered softly, this was his fault. He felt so weak and useless. Why couldn't he have done more to protect Jazz? Prowl started from his thoughts when a yellow helm fin nuzzled his red chevron lovingly. The intimate touch was welcome but it didn't offer as much comfort as Prowl would have liked.

"I know you are feeling out of it Prowl. I also feel your eagerness in wanting to return to Jazz but let me finnish your paint. I'll even add in a little detailing that he'll like." Sunstreaker promised in that calming baritone and Prowl relaxed against his brother's warm chassis. A thumb swiped under his optics and gathered a stray coolant tear, one Prowl hadn't even been aware he was shedding. He frowned at his blatant display of emotions and Sunstreaker seemed perplexed at the action and turned concerned optics on his twin. Sideswipe was leaning against the doorway to the wash racks, a cube of Energon balanced in his one servo. He let out a vented sigh of frustration.

"When was the last time you spark merged with one of us Prowl? Hell even with Blue?" Sideswipe asked with a disapproving frown , he moved forwards from where he was leaning against the door frame. He knew the subtleties of Spark Deprivation and Prowl was displaying all of the symptoms quite spectacularly. Unstable emotions, overly emotional, a continued tremble to his body and visible external exhaustion. The way that Prowl's servo was unconsciously resting over his spark chamber as if it was in pain was another indication. Sideswipe didn't like this, it wasn't like Prowl to allow himself to get like this ― no actually that wasn't quite right. He had just gone through a very traumatising experience, his prospective bondmate and confirmed sparkmate by Ratchet was in stasis, Blue left with Sire unknowingly making their connection less stable and Prowl was most likely torturing himself by not letting his emotions out...

Sideswipe sighed and stepped deeper into the wash racks. His little brother was hurting and he was going to do everything in his power to fix it, he wasn't surprised when Sunstreaker sank to the floor with Prowl cradled in lap. Sideswipe knelt by their side and pushed a cube of high grade into Prowl's servos. His littlest brother had yet to answer his question and now he knew what it was; it was answer enough. Prowl could already guess by now what was happening to him and why he felt so unstable, Sideswipe didn't need to remind him again. Sideswipe sighed and tugged the polishing cloth from his twin's servos.

_**::There's time for tha later, first though Sunny we must do this.::**_ Sides reminded his twin and now they both knew that they were going to have to take the initiative here, it wouldn't be the last time they speculated and it wasn't the first either. They just missed the days when Prowl would come to them without any prompting or them noticing his pain first.

Back in the beginning when Prowl and Bluestreak had had their first spark merge, Prowl had been so afraid to return to Bluestreak again a few orns afterwards. He had been utterly terrified that his brother would not like him after so long and instead he had come to them to keep him stabilized and in control of his spark. It had worked for a while but Prowl's spark had always been seeking contact with Bluestreak's and they eventually had to push their fears aside. Considering that their littler brother was with their Sire now for who knows what; they would have to inform Blue later to corner Prowl and merge with him. This was going to help him for about a vorn but then it would fade. Whereas Bluestreak could keep him stable much longer and make his crash from control that much softer.

Before Bluestreak had come back to their family, Prowl's spark had always been unstable to some degree. A large reason for his emotionally stunted growth and awkward social skills and being the second born of the two of them, Prowl was sire to feel the pain and instability every orn. Back then their spark merges every other orn had helped Prowl keep a sane mind in the least until he could find his split spark twin. That was why doing this didn't bother them at all, in fact it strengthened their sibling ties with him and Prowl needed some familial support right now. He needed proof that he was still accepted and that he was still loved despite everything that had happened. Prowl was notorious for always doubting his worth and uncomfortable asking others for help, much like Sunstreaker was.

"Prowl?" Sideswipe asked, his servo resting against the middle of nervously fluttering doorwings. He felt his brother stiffen at the touch but not pull away completely. "I'm going to get straight to the point. You cannot go on like this a moment longer." Sideswipe pressed formally; a nod from Sunstreaker and Sideswipe handed Prowl a cube of mid grade Energon. It wouldn't do to have him overcharged and afraid at the same time and Prowl liked his mid grade more than any other brew, especially when Sideswipe made it with a sprinkling of silver.

It was easy coaxing Prowl onto their shared berth afterward and Prowl really didn't mind anymore, in fact he relished in the familiar contact. This wasn't a interfacing merge for fun, or one for stability ― no this was one for comfort and out of necessity. So instead of breaking out the teasing foreplay the twins were known for; Sunstreaker settled on Prowl's right - with his back struts to the wall - and Sideswipe took his left, his body nearly covering Prowl's smaller frame with his own. They allowed Prowl enough room to make himself more comfortable and finish the last of his Energon. A glossa licked at a drop of Energon that had escape that cube and dribbled down his lip plates.

"Sides?" Prowl asked uncertainly when his empty cube was taken from his fingers and placed on a close by nightstand. He wanted more but he was also afraid to ask.

"Shhh Prowl, you can have another when we finish. I'll even put in extra silver." Sideswipe promised, leaning over his little brother to place a kiss on a gleaming red chevron and fore helm. Prowl gave a little whimper, his spark aching at the touch. It was like it was trying to rip itself in two, one part was saying that he deserved the comfort that he was being offered and he needed to stabilize himself ― the other was screaming at himself that he was betraying Jazz by doing this. He didn't _want_ to betray Jazz but his needs were screaming at his processor. A pained noise left his vocalizer in his uncertainty.

"Prowl? Calm down please, you're shaking so hard I'm wondering if you'll be launching into a full out panic in a moment's notice." Sunstreaker murmured against Prowl's audio. Gentle servos tracing lazy patterns across his spark chamber in hopes of calming the emotional distress he felt wracking his little brother's frame. Fingers teased the seams in comfort and against Prowl's best wishes of remaining tense he relaxed slightly, Sunny's fingers just felt so good. There was no 'facing intent behind those touches and Sideswipe calm words whispering against his audios finally stopped his imminent panic. Some of his trembling subsided quite quickly after that. Sure fingers tapped out a rhythm of patience against his chest armour, a murmur of comforting words and promises. Prowl's spark gave in, it ached at the memories when they were still youngling and their merges were much like this.

Prowl lost his resolve quickly and just gave in. The next swipe of gentle fingers across his spark chamber had Prowl activating the sequence for releasing the catches and unlocking his spark chamber. The sound of metal retracting and spreading open was the only sound above his whining systems and unsteady, stuttering intakes. The balanced sounds of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's systems above his own made Prowl cycle off his optics to protect them from the brightness erupting inside the room. His own spark light, a bright, light cerulean - almost silver - a contrast to Sunny and Sides' deep indigo coloured sparks. The intensity of the light was almost too much for Prowl's optics so he carefully kept them offline to protect them.

"We love you Prowl, don't ever leave us behind." Sunstreaker whispered against his audio as he leaned forward. Prowl barely had time to brace himself before the tendrils of Sunstreaker's spark was joined by Sideswipe's. The both of them pressed into him, completely consuming his spark within theirs. The feeling was heady in its al encompassing power and Prowl's frame trembled but not in apprehension this time. This wasn't like the last time he had done this, there was no interface intent behind it, no desire to make him overload ― just plain merging and settling their presences close to his spark. It was giving over of themselves for his reassurance and comfort and Prowl couldn't have felt more accepted. The feeling of being so loved and appreciated warmed Prowl's cheek plates in happiness, his doorwings scarping against the berth in their attempt to express his happiness in a flutter but they were too restricted. The pain from the movement was swept away the moment he even thought of it.

All of Prowl's concerns seemed to be pushed back into his processor and for the first time he offered everything of himself. Not hiding one of his most happy and shameful memories, it was in compensation for Sides and Sunny looking after him for so long. It was the memory of his first interface and the events that had led up to it. It played out for them to see and with it the immense power behind the feelings he had for Jazz, Prowl knew that they would now understand. He heard both of his brother's gasp in surprise before they pressed kisses of understanding on his fore helm and glimmering red chevron, trying to offer comfort for the pain he had experienced. Prowl also wasn't surprised when he felt their anger at the mech who had given him potent aphrodisiacs and mourned the fact that they had not been there for him then. That they hadn't even known the trauma of that orn and the happiness he found in a single stranger.

_**::Oh Prowl why didn't you ever tell us?:**_: Sunny spoke across their sibling bond softly, his tone filled with sorrow and regret. Prowl dimmed his optics as he flickered them on; a wave of his own shame deep from within his spark was Prowl's only answer to the question. He was surprised when both and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker pulled him closer to them, attempting to crush their bodies together in a tight embrace of possessiveness. Their remorse was flowing across his spark with a sting but the love he felt from them never faded. They were his little brother, the little brother that had always dropped everything to come and help them when they had needed him.

_**::You should have told us Prowl.::**_ Sideswipe said sadly but did not press any further into the memory. It was time to share something with Prowl they had kept hidden from everyone except themselves. In trust they revealed one of their biggest secrets. The rarity of being split spark twins, proper bondmates and spark mates. Prowl eventually found himself blushing at the images rushing through his spark but he gave a small smile as well, they were not so discreetly telling him how to bond with a sparkmate. Something even Ratchet had been reluctant to tell him about since he had mentioned his fascination with Jazz. Sunstreaker gave a snort at that but said nothing against his racing thoughts. He himself only offered understanding at the joy he felt after his first interface with the mech that was his sparkmate. It was just a coincidence that they were split spark twins and would be doing this for the rest of their lives.

_**::Thank you.::**_ Prowl whispered, his spark stabilizing and basking in the acceptance and love he felt flowing through him, filling the emptiness and loss that had plagued his spark for orns. He frowned when heard their simultaneous snorts though at his offered gratitude.

_**::For what little Prowler?::**_ Sideswipe teased, a smile flitting across his faceplates at his smaller brother's embarrassment. They had picked up on the pet name Jazz had given Prowl the first time they had met.

_**::Don't call me that!::**_ Prowl pushed at the merge harshly, his gratitude completely forgotten as his anger flared before it settled again and he relaxed. He was too tired to fight.

_**::Oh hush Prowler, it suits you. I still wonder how you can walk so quietly with such a frame.::**_ Sunstreaker injected with his own smirk. He was the first to disengage his spark after sensing that Prowl was fine again. Leaning with his back struts against the wall, a smile of contentment spread across his normally scowling features. It had been so long since they had seen Prowl so relaxed with himself and not absorbed in datapads and intense calculations.

_**::Creators knew how to choose the right designation then I guess.::**_ Prowl mumbled irately and Sideswipe laughed above him; pulling away from Prowl before his natural code closed his spark chamber to protect his most vulnerable life force. His servo rested over Prowl's pulsing spark . He was monitoring Prowl's spark pulses through his plating and when he was satisfied that everything had gone he let Prowl up. The youngest quickly made to get up and run from the room but found himself pulled from the berth by his doorwings and manhandled to his knee struts to kneel before Sunstreaker.

"Just where do you think you are going Prowler? I'm not done with your paint or detailing yet." Sunstreaker reminded Prowl with a smirk. Prowl's doorwings sagged but he didn't protest, his optics following his older brother's movements as he set about to make that cube of Energon he had promised him earlier. He felt so much calmer than before and his spark was for once feeling rested and under control. He took pleasure in just being there and nothing was expected of him in return.

"Thank you." He eventually said again; his gratitude overflowing in his words and pouring in waves from his spark. Two sets of blue optics locked with his and they smiled. they felt just as appreciated as their brother and Sunstreaker could finally set his spark at ease that Prowl would be fine.

"Now Sides, do you think I should pinstripe his black with Jazz's blue and white?" Sunstreaker asked with a smirk. A servo clamping on Prowl's doorwing to stop him from squirming away.

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz systems came online slowly, his first instinct was to keep his sensor net turned up high and running his systems slow. He didn't want the other presence close to him to notice his wakeful state. The first thing he became aware of was a servo gently twined with his, the brush of a familiar EM field against his, it was filled with concern and traces of latent recharge. When Jazz became aware of another presence flitting about the Medbay - now identified by the familiar scent of antiseptic, running scanners and whirring machines - he relaxed and gently squeezed Prowl's servo as he finally onlined his visor.

"Nggh...Wha's happenin doc?" Jazz asked with a lopsided smile and small moan at the brightness of the room. Managing to sit up with only a minor wince of pain and miraculously without disturbing the black and white mech with his helm resting on his berth deep in recharge. It wasn't long until Jazz heard the Medic moving through the Medbay. Ratchet had whirled around at his words, a deep set scowl on his faceplates as he marched over to the injured Spec Ops mech. Jazz flinched at that intense gaze, he wasn't used to seeing Ratchet like this except when he had gone and done something stupid again.

"What's happening, Jazz? You barely recovered from being fragging shot. And might I add if Prowl hadn't patched the wound as quickly and efficiently as he did you'd be dead by now. It just barely missed a main Energon line and you nearly bled out!" Ratchet relayed harshly, trying to force away his concern for his colleague. Strangely enough though, his words were in a hissed whisper as to not disturb his recharging Sweetspark. Jazz shrugged and immediately whished he hadn't, the pain rushing across his sensor net was enough to make him bite back a wince.

Eventually he looked down at the mech at his bedside with a fond smile and a satisfying tug at his spark. Jazz reached forward his free servo and stroked it across Prowler's recharging helm, tracing the red tip of a chevron gently and with great care ― his little Prowler hadn't left his side. He smiled as his fingers traced over tiny dents in the chevron, they were still there. Jazz eventually turned his attention back to Ratchet, who was now staring at the both of them with a fond smile and light optics. Jazz gave a tentative smile back and turned his visor back on the mech who was deep in recharge next to him.

"Ah guess, he's no' lef' mah side since?" Jazz asked gently, this time sighing in relief when he noticed Prowl's doorwings give a little flutter of contentment as he continued his petting. The broken doorwing had been completely fixed and Jazz felt relief flow through his systems. He hadn't admitted it out loud or even acknowledged it but that specific injury had gone straight to his spark. Seeing one of Prowl's most beautiful features in such bad shape and obviously bent at such a painful angle had nearly made him maul the Decepticon that had done the damage with only his clawed servos. Yet, Jazz had shown a large amount of self restraint as to not scare his beloved Prowl with his other, darker side.

"Yes, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had to literally drag him away by his doorwings. He's really fond of you and didn't want to go with them even when they offered to get him some Energon and fix his paint." Ratchet admitted with a deep scowl and Jazz chuckled deeply, a fond flash of his visor directed at Prowl before his attention was turned back to Ratchet. He never thought he'd see Ratchet like this, the dour Medic with more of a temper than anything else. He was actually showing affection and love to not one but both of them.

"Ah guess he gets tha' from ya?" Jazz asked with a grin, Ratchet seemed to huff and preen at the same time. Creator pride shimmering on the surface as a more deep seated fond, love was expressed in his optics. Ratchet gifted him with a very rare smile and a nod of his helm, silver chevron catching in the light before those optics were trained on him once again.

"Yes, he gets a lot from me. It's just his ability to trust and dismiss given comfort that he gets from 'Jack that worries me. I'm afraid that he'll get hurt and I won't always be there for him when needs me the most." The CMO admitted sadly, when Jazz sent him a querying look but the Medic said nothing further; he just turned around and went back to cleaning and organising his tools.

"Well, he's go' meh now...Ratch? Are those scars from doorwings?" Jazz asked with a frown when he noticed the deep scars across Ratchet's back struts. He had never noticed it before because they were well hidden by white paint but now as the dim lights of the Medbay hit Ratchet's back plating, it finally made them visible to him. His visor carefully taking in every detail as Ratchet stiffened at his question, his shoulder plates straightening defensively and a small quiver of fear rushed across tense back struts. Jazz sighed, he'd just asked a taboo question and going by the look of pain flashing briefly across Ratchet's face plates, it was clear he was hiding his shame from Jazz as best he could.

"Look Ratch, Ah don' wanna intrude..."

"No! No, it's fine Jazz. Just a surprise, not many people ever notice them." Ratchet admitted softly, his helm ducking under Jazz's sharp visor. "How do you think Prowl and Bluestreak ended up with a Praxian frame?" Ratchet pointed out sharply, his hip strut pressing against the desk where his medical tools were spread before him as he looked at the Kaonian imploringly.

"Wha' hap'ened?" Jazz asked slowly, his fingers never stilling in their stroking of Prowl's helm. Ratchet watched the action with hidden emotions but eventually he refocused his attention on Jazz. It was difficult to trust somemech out of his family unit with this.

"Since you'll be joining our family unit soon, I guess it's time you were told." Ratchet eventually decided what to say. "Let's just say, for Primus' sake, that my Sire - Lord Sparks - was not a very patient mech. He didn't take well to me going to the Medical Academy instead of going into the Council to become a politician."

"He took my proud heritage from me in the most painful way possible, ripping them from my back struts whilst screaming something about me being an 'ungrateful little creation with no processor to understand what I had done'." Ratchet relayed shortly with a dismissive shrug. There was no need to go into too much detail, Jazz would most likely find the answers on his own if his questions hadn't been answered. A mech could not forget what job the black, white and blue mech was devilling in. What he was specifically programmed to do.

"'Nd ya never had them replaced?" Jazz asked curiously. Lifting his servo from Prowl's helm when the Praxian shifted uncomfortably, instead he rested it in his lap instead. His visor intently focused on the Medic. This was the first time he had heard of such cruelty, to take someone's heritage like that just because he wanted to do something close to spark was senseless and damn vindictive.

"No, I never felt the need to replace something that fuelled my hatred for my Sire. In a way it was my liberation from high class society." Ratchet admitted honestly before turning his back on the saboteur again, his optics flickering briefly before he picked up a pristine tool and began polishing it again. For Jazz it was a clear dismissal of the topic and he didn't pry any further, he was no qualified psychologist but he could tell that it bothered Ratchet deeply.

"Try and get some more rest Jazz, I'd let you go but since Prowl seems to have made himself comfortable next to you it's going to hard to wake him." Jazz's helm snapped up, visor onlineing at Ratchet's words before he gave a nod in understanding. He didn't want to move just yet either, the pain in his shoulder plates was finally fading and he also he didn't want to risk waking Prowl by his movement. And yet, just as the Medbay doors hissed shut behind Ratchet's exit ― he felt Prowl jerk awake with a start and a quiet moan. Bleary optics flickering around the room as much as they could from that position before the tactician moved to sit up; a long low hiss leaving his intakes as Prowl winced visibly at the stiffness of his neck cables.

"Hmmm, Ah can imagine that'll 'urt 'fter recharging like tha'." Jazz pointed out smugly, and at Prowl's wilful but mock glare Jazz hopping from his berth to help the Praxian in pain to his pedes. A single touch was all it took for Prowl to feel his emotions well up in his spark and spill over into his processor. He nearly bent over with the force that it assaulted him by.

"J-Jazz?" Prowl asked uncertainly, shivering when an arm slid around his waist to keep him steady. His optics were burning intensely and Prowl could feel himself whimper in pain; why did it hurt so much to cry? He felt like howling his grief but he so desperately wanted to express his feelings but he didn't know how. It was tearing him apart on the inside, only the touch of his brother's against the newly strengthened bond kept him from curling into a little ball and sobbing out his grief.

"Yeah?" Jazz returned uncertainly, his processor already contacting the Medic to tell him his youngest had awoken and Jazz kept quiet about the emotions he felt rushing across his sensory grid. It was making his sensory horns tingle at the mess of emotions. After a klik Jazz got a faint reply from Ratchet telling him to get to his quarters and rest, he was off the duty roster for three orns. That was good, he needed time to sort through Prowl's mass of emotions and calm him before the kid broke something. Even the faintest of emotional unbalance in Prowl was affecting Jazz's spark as well and he didn't want to see his beloved like this. So uncertain and afraid that Jazz would hate and not want him anymore.

He turned his indigo visor on Prowl and was promptly surprised when he was pulled into a fierce embrace. Servos were scrambling across his back struts to try and find some sort of purchase before he felt a smaller frame sagging heavily into his chassis with pure relief. Jazz didn't know what to make of with the blatant display of emotions but he accepted them as they came. Accepting Prowl's possessive and relieved embrace by winding his arms around Prowl's waist; one servo splaying out between two trembling doorwings to steady his beloved and offer more support. He could now feel the soft vibrations in Prowl's frame and it broke his spark to even feel them, Prowler was holding back a lot of emotions and Jazz tried to gently coax them out.

"Prowler? Wha's wrong?" Jazz asked gently, his arms winding tighter around his charge when Prowl tried to pull away. The sensor net pressing against his was now wild with guilt, remorse and shame. A trio of emotions Jazz knew very well, except for the cause of them.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I s-should n-never h-have let you get hurt, it's all my―."

"Shhh Prowler, 's not! Ah should 'ave been more careful 'nd not as easily distracted." Jazz tried to sooth the Praxian as best he could.

"B-but―." Prowl protested and trailed off. "I-if you don't w-want me anymore I-I'll understand" Jazz froze at those words and when Prowl started to fight his embrace to get free ― Jazz instinctively tightened his grip. He was not letting go and he didn't know what had prompted this was but it was disconcerting seeing his Prowl like this. Prowl was thrashing against him but Jazz absolutely refused to let go. This was the moment in their relationship that he knew would either break them or bring them closer.

They eventually wound up on an empty berth, Prowl pulled close to Jazz's spark chamber until he had finally calmed enough to stop his stuttering intakes. His quietly rattling frame holding back sobs of regret, and feelings of inferiority. For now his own systems were just content to listen to Jazz's spark hum beneath his audial receiver. Gentle soothing strokes across his helm had him relaxing into the touch and made his processor fuzzy with the bout of uncontrolled emotions he had just experienced. Where the doubt had finally come from Prowl didn't know but he didn't like it.

"Oh Prowler, 'f ya think that'll make meh stop loving ya Prowler then yer wrong." Jazz soothed, servos tracing across back struts calmingly. "Ratchet never told ya much 'bout spark mates did he?" Jazz pointed out with a sigh.

"Jazz?" Prowl began tentatively again only to be silenced by a clawed finger pressing against his lip plates. The gesture was usually used to keep a sparkling quiet but used by Jazz it was both a sensual touch and did its job in silencing any further thoughts that raced through his processor.

"Ah my Prowler, hush. We'll talk 'bout this 'nother time when yer feelin' better 'nd less stressed." Prowl wanted to protest but eventually he nodded. Prowl was beginning to regret ever illegally overriding his vocalizer and optic coolant earlier that orn. His vocalizer felt scratchy as he spoke and his optics felt painfully dry and burned. The coolant now refusing to form when he desperately wanted to just cry out. A sob ripped from inside his spark and he choked on his intakes but did nothing further to indicate his state. How could he tell Jazz what he felt? It was such a daunting task and it made him feel very insecure. He wanted to bond with Jazz now, not sometime in the foreseeable future. His spark was telling him that the war was too dangerous and he would lose Jazz if they did not bond, even if one of them died the other would follow but Prowl wasn't even thinking of that. He just wanted to feel loved and cared for in a way that Sunny and Sides couldn't provide and not even Bluestreak could comfort. Only Jazz ever could.

It was a long time until one of them spoke, each caught up in their own thoughts and when Jazz suddenly broke the silence. Prowl whined when his comfortable perch moved and he was forced to sit up.

"Can ya walk Prowlie?" Prowl shivered at the new pet name, and he didn't protest to it he secretly liked it when Jazz called him that with so much affection. He was too tired to answer and eventually gave a small nod. It wasn't even a klik later when he felt servos pushing him up and then twining with one of his own.

"Good, 'cause Ah'm tired and these berths 're uncomfortable. Le's get some rest 'n a proper one."

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl frowned when he felt Jazz stop just as he crossed the threshold into the saboteur's quarters. Acutely aware of that sharp visor was now trained on his aft as he walked forward and eventually stopped. A shiver crossed his plating as he felt that gaze travel up his back slowly. It slowly made it's was over his lower back struts, nervously twitching doorwings and finally settled on the back of his neck components. Prowl tensed at the intense feeling and with a deep Energon blush, looked over his shoulder with a disapproving frown forming on his faceplates. Jazz was injured, he shouldn't even be thinking of something like interfacing. Why had Jazz stopped in the first place though? They had shared a companionable silence as they walked the halls of the Ark but the tension hadn't been sexual in any way but now...

"What are you doing?" Prowl asked and yelped when he felt arms encircle him from behind, effectively trapping his body against Jazz's chassis as those clawed fingers rested on his hips and dangerously close to his closed interface panel. The Praxian shuddered when a servo pulled away to rest on his doorwing, tracing the outline of his black and white paint. When Prowl felt Jazz's olfactory sensor pushing against his shoulder plating he bit his bottom lip plate before he trembled, sure that Jazz was scenting him for some reason.

"Hmmm Prowlie, when'd ya get yer paint done? Ya smell nice too..." Jazz purred, his voice an octave lower than normal and Prowl wanted to whine at the seductive purr. He didn't protest when he was pushed forward and flipped until his back struts were pressed firmly against the wall. The common room spread before him with Jazz pressing close to him. Prowl promptly frowned as the question registered in his processor; he looked down at his chassis to see if Sunstreaker had done something to him but he couldn't see anything. Why was Jazz asking? It had just been some detailing and a patch paint job to his broken doorwing. Then again he had been pretty dazed when he had done it...

"Sunny did it about a cycle ago." He eventually answered with a frown and looked down again, this time he promptly understood why Jazz was asking ― his optics finally catching sight of intricate indigo, white and red pinstripes decorating the edge where the black met the white. Their pattern was flawlessly done to perfection and the subtle change in his paint seemed to have caught his lover's visor and sole attention for some reason. Prowl jerked in surprise when his lip plates were forced apart by a questing glossa seeking an intimate, passionate kiss. Prowl allowed it and even leaned into the sensual swipes of Jazz's glossa as they tangled in a heated dance. A small keen leaving his vocalizer before he was pulled away from the wall and pushed towards the berth room rather impatiently.

"Ah'm gonna hav' ta thank Sunstreaker later then." Jazz purred and pressed Prowl's shoulder plates onto the soft silver berth coverings evenly. The Praxian's doorwings strained against the soft material, wanting to flutter for some reason, before they settled and Prowl lay back. His servos scraping against Jazz's chassis to try gain his lover's attention before things went too far. Jazz was still injured...

"Jaaazzz!" Prowl cried, even as he arched into the sharp nip against his sensitive neck cables ― where the possessive gnaw had come from he didn't know but it was enough to start his arousal jumping at the close contact. The slightly painful touch sending Prowl's plating screaming with extra heat and momentary bliss.

"Jaaazzz! Please! You're injured." Prowl yelped, finally managing to remind Jazz why they were not supposed to be doing this. Jazz stilled his movements once Prowl had spoken, his visor flashing at the mech spread beneath him before he gifted Prowl with a lopsided grin of mischief.

"Hn, tha' might be true Prowler but, Ah wan' ya 'nd Ah wan' te try somethin' different this nightly orn." Jazz purred softly, his intakes' soft vent blowing across Prowl's audial receiver gently. He chuckled as the tactician squirmed underneath him from the foreign sensation. His servo resting across Prowl's spark chamber to keep tract of the rapid spark pulse. It was erratic and the plating above it was already warm with want. Jazz could see those beautiful blue optics already struggling to stay online and dim seductively instinctively. He himself knew his injury was still too raw to do something strenuous but there was still _one_ interfacing option they had yet to try and it was considerably less messy than all the others.

Jazz purred at the mere thought, engine revving hard when Prowl arched into him. His clawed fingers seeking out and tracing the interfacing hatch just below Prowl's spark chamber. A low wail of pleasure was his only answer and Jazz smirked happily, his visor flashing darkly in lust. He loved seeing Prowl like this, granted he could make Prowl act out his pleasure a lot more but this was enough for now. They had an eternity together.

It was just something about Prowl that always pushed him over the edge of his control and now he felt himself crumble.

"'ave ya ever 'faced hard line 'fore Prowler?" Jazz asked tentatively and when he got a negative shake of the Prowl's helm he managed to keep his outrage in check; it was almost considered redundant these orns but mechs still did it because of the rush of incredible pleasure. The hacking rate was also high but it was the closes thing to a spark merge as it used spark pulses to add pleasurable data sharing. It was also the method used amongst youngling before they had their frames upgraded and their interface protocols activated. How Prowl had never used it left Jazz puzzled but that was just another thing in the enigma that was _his_ Prowler.

"W-will it hurt like the first time?" Prowl asked ― suddenly feeling wary of experiencing pain. A mortified blush spreading across his cheeks when he realized just what it was that he had just asked. At Jazz's chuckle, Prowl ducked his helm in embarrassment.

Jazz merely chuckled at Prowl's response and nuzzled their helms together in a show of affection and love. There really was nothing to be afraid of this time, it seemed to say.

"No. Ya'll be 'n fer a real treat Prowlie, Ah promise."

Prowl barely had time to nod before he felt Jazz's clawed fingers release the hidden catch to his hard line panel. A new set of protocols popped up on his HUD asking for execution, recalibration-synchronization programs, before a rush of coolant was released into the components. The last was a request to drop his firewalls. He executed all of them, although Prowl was a bit apprehensive about the last one. He didn't like being so unprotected.

"'S alright Prowler, ya'll like it." Jazz promised again, his fingers tracing the port gently ― coaxing Prowl to relax back onto the berth. The silver silicone cover was still there, and Jazz knew that Prowl hadn't been laying about never using it before. It made him wonder just _what_ Prowler had done to get pleasure when he had been younger and had not had his interface protocols. Shrugging it aside and fingering the seal, he wasn't surprised when it immediately pulled back at his touch. A rush of coolant running over his exploring finger. Jazz just smiled up at Prowl, visor dimming in anticipation as his own panel slid back. Out of pure courtesy Jazz hadn't mentioned that this was one of _the_ worst ways a mech could be hacked and this interface panel should only be used when you trusted that mech impeccably.

Prowl let out a low keen below Jazz, the touch in such an unknown place felt _so_ good. Not pleasurable per say, but it trickled safety and warmth. He was surprised when he felt Jazz's fingers unfurl his hard line cable; a low hum of pleasure filling his systems when there was a soft click and a brush of another consciousness rested against his own. Not intruding in his systems and searching for something but the presence entering his systems was definitely noticeable, it felt different but was also welcome. Prowl's optics flickered up at Jazz uncertainly and all his spark mate gave him was an encouraging smile before Jazz's cable slid into his port. The sudden sensation nearly knowing Prowl's systems offline.

That got a hiss from his intakes, his back struts arching as the first packet of data entered his systems ― rushing through his spark code before exploding across his sensitive plating.

~'S a lit'le different than normal 'facing but 't has 't's own set of merits.~ A voice purred in his processor and Prowl nodded weakly. The pleasure was intense and very concentrated ― especially when he felt lip plates curl around his red chevron before sucking on the tip. The blissful sensation doubled across his sensor net and Prowl keened loudly and almost scream leaving his vocalizer before a burst of static erupted instead. Jazz's laughter of enjoyment was causing shivers to race across Prowl's circuits and caused his spark to warm at the rare sound. Glad for once that Jazz knew what he was feeling during intimate contact. It was certainly a new experience to know exactly the amount of pleasure an action could cause.

~Jaaazzz! Please! I need more!~ Prowl pleaded desperately, the packets of pleasure data they were exchanging had the tactician's plating dancing with a heated charge ― the static already crackling across the plating when Jazz's servos roamed over his armour. Touching a doorwing, tracing his spark chamber and the unexpected double sensation when those sly claw like fingers traced the edge of their doubled connection.

Prowl could skim through Jazz's upper most thoughts and the images that was projected across the hard line was sensual, erotic and made him blush embarrassingly. He saw of himself as he was seen in Jazz's visor and he never thought he could look so beautiful and erotic. The distinct feel of possessiveness rushing across his spark was another thing that made Prowl's processor tingle pleasantly, Jazz cared enough about him to actually want to keep every prospective mech away from him? Even when they weren't officially a couple made his spark swell with well know emotions of love and affection.

Prowl sent his gratitude and love in return; trying his best to express himself trough the deep connection they now shared. When Jazz pressed their closed spark chambers together in retaliation and understanding Prowl whimpered softly, another long stream of data going straight to his spark. It was filled with such _need_ and _want_ that Prowl felt his spark ache with Jazz's. His heated plating shivering at the close form contact.

Out of impulsiveness Prowl had never known, he pulled Jazz's helm towards his own. Lip plates curling around Jazz's sensory horn in experimentation before he reeled at the double feedback he received across the connection. It was almost too much for him and Prowl just barely managed to stop a scream of pleasure. How Jazz could stay so composed Prowl didn't know but he admired it immensely.

~T-touch my doorwings please.~ Prowl begged, just to show Jazz how sensitive they were to touch and the moment Jazz did ― the feeling seeping across his plating was incredible. Prowl sucked hard on the sensory horn and arched up into Jazz at the same time. After that it didn't take long before Prowl was tumbling into a too fast overload, he just couldn't hold back anymore ― it was way too much for him. The immense feedback of his own overload dragging Jazz down with him. He felt the saboteur stiffen above him, a wailing howl echoing through their processors before leaving both of them unsure of just who had made the pleasured sound. Prowl was beginning to think it was him by Jazz's satiated smirk...

Coming down from a spark high that left his processor spinning, Prowl curled closer to Jazz for a way to ground himself. Their systems were still synchronized and running hot, they had yet to disconnect the hard line. A lazy servo was tracing across his back struts and Prowl found himself purring at the gentle touch. He liked cuddling and shifted closer to his lover.

"Wow." Was all Prowl could eventually say and Jazz's musical chuckle made the tactician flush in embarrassment.

"Ya could say tha' again. Tha's the best way te 'face when yer trying te be quiet." Jazz said. Shifting so that he could wind his arms around Prowl's hip components and drag him bodily closer.

The full body contact was soothing to the both of them as they slowly forgot of their ordeal earlier that orn and the slaughter they had witnessed. It was far from being over but Prowl felt more relaxed around Jazz now, the anxiety had been taken away from his spark by that simple exchange of pleasurable data and an incredible overload. The Praxian was turned on his side so that his doorwings wouldn't get hurt and they were for once still in their immense array of expressions. Leaving him at a bit of a loss but when he opened his mouth component to ask a question he clamped it down immediately. He would ask as soon as he could but now wasn't the right time. His spark was protesting loudly to that.

"Jazz?" Prowl eventually asked, a little courage trickling from somewhere. His processor reeling at just what he was contemplating on asking but when that dimly lit visor flickered on and Jazz's helm turned towards him, he felt the question stall in his chest plates.

"Wha's 't Prowl?" Jazz asked concerned when he saw the way that Prowl's optics flickered on and off, the rim of the optics were a little darker in colour than they normally should be and Jazz got the distinct feeling that Prowl wanted to cry but the coolant tears just wouldn't come. He leaned on his elbow strut to get a better view of Prowl's expression, his claw like servo tracing across Prowl's cheek seam to try and calm him from whatever was eating at his spark again.

"D-don't ever leave me again." Prowl pleaded and stilled when he felt Jazz mould their forms together tighter. A soothing servo tracing across his back struts to keep him calm whilst soft shushing noises made Prowl relax completely into the embrace, he was giving his spark over. There was no other way to describe it, his very being was now Jazz's...

"Ah won't Prowl, Ah promise. Ah'll always be there."

"P-please bond with me." Prowl forced from his vocalizer in a voice that so soft and unsure that Jazz almost missed it altogether. He was going to have to work on Prowl's insecurities, pulling the smaller frame tighter against his own Jazz refused to let go ever again.

"We'll talk te Ratch 'nd 'Jack next orn." Jazz promised. This time staying awake until Prowl was deep into recharge just to make sure Prowl was alright. There was still so many unspoken words between them but the answer he had just given was truly from his spark just as Prowl's question had been what had been plaguing him since Jazz had gotten injured.

It was the start of something new. A trust that ran deep and insecurities that threatened to overwhelm the both of them.

0oooo00oooo0

* * *

Yay, it's done. I've edited it as far as I could so I apologize if there are some mistakes somewhere. If you've enjoyed it then please leave me a review, I would really appreciate it! Thanks so much for reading and I'm glad that you guys enjoy this so much as I enjoy writing it.

Next chapter: Prowl and Jazz face Ratchet and Wheeljack, some yummy, yummy scenes and Jazz experiences Prowl's first ever Logical Glitch.

Thanks again and please be patient for the next chapter.

Yours Truly

DF


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Into the Dark

**Chapter:** Chapter 4

**Fandom:** Transformers

**Continuity:** G1

**Pairing/s:** Jazz x Prowl, Optimus Prime x Red Alert (only seen very briefly)

**Rating:** NC - 17

**Summary:** Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...

**Chapter Summary:** It is the orn that Prowl and Jazz have to face the music, so to speak, but Jazz has other ideas - until Ratchet interrupts them that is. Obeying his summons they find a surprising situation awaiting them in his office and leave there quite happy and content. Only things go a bit downhill from there when Jazz asks Prowl to accompany him to a meeting with the Prime. The saboteur learns something of his beloved Prowl that he never knew of before and never suspected.

**Warnings:** Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers & Sires, smut, explicit explanation of sticky smut, twincest, tactile overloads, incest and Plug 'n Play.

**N/B:** Oh I'm so happy I've finally finished this chapter! It was difficult as I was distracted by my artistic side and decided to draw. You guys can have a look at the picture I did for this chapter here: (Just remember to take out all the spaces).

- ht tp : / ratchets- sparkling . deviantart . com / art / Prowl- x -Jazz-A-Kiss-My-Beloved-3025 08855

It'll be posting Nightly Orns to Remember a bit later this week or next, I still have a few things to do before I can concentrate on that. Oh and I also hope you guys enjoy the memory flux at the end of the chapter, I just love writing a young Prowl. There will be more eventually.

Chapter Notes:

Astrosecond - 0.01 seconds

Nanoklik - 1 second

Klik - 1 minute

Breem - 8 minutes

Joor - 1 Hour

Cycle 18 Hours

Orn - Day

Metacycle - 6 years

Vorn - 83 years

Stellar Cycle - 83 vorns

"..." Talking

**"..."** Comm. line

_Thoughts_ or_ Emphasis_ on a word

~...~ Medical Hardline/ Hardline interfacing

_**::Sweetspark::**_ Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union

* * *

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl awoke to the skittering of gentle servos transversing across his inner thigh plating, the subtle touch partly roused him from his recharge and forced his optics to online at their dimmest setting. A sense of déjà vu spreading through his limbs and settling across his spark. Before he could process what was happening, Prowl's pedes spread wider of their own violation as a small moan drifted into the atmosphere at a suggestive swipe of clawed fingers across his already heated interface panel. The tactician dazedly rose to lean on his elbow struts, helm thrown backwards as his doorwings fluttered behind him in appreciation to the arousing touches. Not knowing the erotic bend that his entire body made and the subtle recording the guilty saboteur was making of his every movement.

Doorwings, arched gracefully gave an appreciative flutter as Prowl purred at the sensations racing across his armour plating. His processor was still foggy from recharge and his movements were free of embarrassment and restrictive thoughts. Pedes fell open in invitation as a low groan of satisfaction echoed through the room, soft pliable lip plates parted under confusion at the intensity of pleasure that assaulted his entire being as intakes stuttered in pleasure.

Jazz admired the sight before him, a discreet clawed servo rubbing against his own hypersensitive plating – close enough to his own interface panel to bring him pleasure in his voyeurism. Watching Prowl like this was his greatest vice, something he always made a note of when they were together like this.

Jazz drank in the prospect spread only for his conquest, shapely white thigh plates shuddering at his attention, systems humming a symphony of over stimulation - gaining momentum and attaining a sweeter tune from Prowl's exertion. It was like forever having that specific image burned into his processor and the back of his visor. Jazz's spark was thrumming happily in his chest as he watched his Prowler with no amount of hidden lust.

His EM field expanded as he brought the Praxian into a more wakeful state, not just the thread where he now balanced between erotic recharge and not knowing that he was receiving true pleasure and affection. Those optics were slightly flickering, indicating that Prowl was awake but not completely alert to his surroundings; a sort of standby mode where he was lucid enough to realize what he was feeling buts still far enough into his recharge cycle that he thought he was sill dreaming. That was fine with Jazz though, he grinned at the thought of Prowl having erotic dreams about him. It made this 'exploring' (claiming) actually all the more fun for the Spec Ops mech. He had never taken to the berth a mech as responsive as Prowl and now that he had found him, there was no intent to let him go. He was possessive...

"Mornin' Prowler." Jazz purred in his most sensual voice; Prowl started from his haze by the seductive timbre echoing so close to his audial receivers. A soft cry of surprise tensed his neck cables in slight fear but soon he relaxed again, shoulder plates slumping back onto the soft berth as he let out a long vent. It wasn't long until he recognized the mech settled between his pedes, his quietly satisfying recharge had been interrupted but was now greeted by a flashing visor and a lopsided, sexy grin of satisfaction. Prowl couldn't help it; Jazz's joy was so infectious that he smiled back tentatively even when he felt embarrassed at the position he was in, and still a little confused as to what was happening around him. It didn't take long until a teasing glossa reached out to lave attention to his heated but still closed interface panel that Prowl finally realized what had jerked him awake in the first place.

The young Prowl immediately arched back, hips bucking to get more of the racing sensations across his plating as he made a silent plea for more. A cry of surprise echoing across the expanse of Jazz's berthroom as he gained his bearings, his helm flopping back onto a pillow with a groan. His processor was close to fritzzing with his logical glitch, his emotions warring with his duty protocols causing Prowl hiss lowly and try to squirm away from the touch. He was desperately trying to calm his too fast thoughts, the Praxian focused instead on taking note of the berthroom he now found himself in' it would provide a good distraction to his over fraught processors and whirring battle computer.

The almost gloomy darkness was subtly lighted by a roaring ion fire and several black crystal candles; it was a subtle reminiscence of their first time together. Prowl waivered at the thought, for the past several orns they had been together unhindered by work and worry but there was something underlying all their joy. Oh, yes. Carrier Ratchet. That was however violently pushed from his thoughts when Prowl crooned his desire, Jazz had just scraped his denta across the inside of his thighs. It was then that Prowl also became aware of the entire room engulfed in a heady, but pleasant perfumed scent.

A scent that made Prowl's spark jump erratically in his spark chamber, making his servos tremble with the want to touch and reciprocate the pleasure.

"Jazz? I-I want to touch!" He whined but only found a servo curling over his own and a negative shake of the saboteur's helm.

"Jaaazzz?" Prowl trained off in a long, low moan as the assault to his now hyper sensitive thigh plating never ceased. Only huffing in quiet frustration at Jazz's chassis scraping against his own when the saboteur sidled closer to the tactician and upwards. Deliberately bringing their faceplates mere inches from one another's. A soft olfactory sensor brushed against his own and caused Prowl's circuits to nearly overheat. The erotic sensation of being so close to his beloved but not allowed to touch was torture and also had his own servos gripping at the berth covers to try and find grounding for his rushing emotions.

There was a low click in the room as the sound system switched on, claw like fingers brushing sensually against Prowl's lip plates to keep him quiet and complaint. Prowl, against his wishes, obeyed immediately; doorwings pulling close to his back struts at the command. Prowl bit his lower lip plate to stave off more sounds of enjoyment at the action. Whatever Jazz was doing to him was driving the tactician insane with need and he wanted more...

"Hush Prowlie, Ah'm havin' a bit of fun wit' ya." That corporeal voice whispered right against his audio. "Jus' lay back, relax and le' the Maestro take care of ya." The saboteur purred deeply just as a low, erotic tune flitted through the atmosphere from the intricate sound system. Playing a melody in the background, an instigator to the suddenly tense but satiated atmosphere.

Coaxing the young Praxian to sit up and turn around so that those lovely doorwings faced him; Jazz allowed for the thrumming beat to overtake and dictate his sensual embrace. Coaxing the slender frame to rise and sway with him to the music in an erotic dance of fulfilment.

Servos pulled Prowl into his body's embrace more fully; a single servo holding a delicate waist to restrict Prowl's movement before he used his other servo's fingers to scratch across the fluttering doorwings. It was easy to be swept up in the rhythm of the music. The rise and fall of every note eventually made Prowl realize the lust that was building between their bodies; the scrape of his doorwings against Jazz's chassis was blissful and he accepted to follow as the Kaonian led him through a sensual dance of pleasure and simple steps. The tactician uttered little sounds of pure bliss as Jazz allowed the music to overtake his caresses. Prowl shuttered his optics, servos caressed his side, hips and swell of his chassis before they rested on Prowl's constantly quivering doorwings.

The Praxian uttered a cry of enjoyment. The slow sensual rhythm making him relax back into Jazz completely, his white helm resting against a black shoulder plate. His servos resting upon Jazz's as he followed the Spec Ops Director's every move; his vocalizer humming softly but contentedly for the moment.

He had felt this with Bluestreak before, the heated rush of overload building at a steady rhythm but never before had he expected another non-Praxian mech to take interest in his taking him dancing and paying sensual attention to his now flaring doorwings. It was tradition, his Carrier had told him, and that a Praxian be picked for their expressive doorwings and beauty at sensual dancing. His regency presented Prowl as a high standing Praxian with much control as a submissive lover and was gifted with overly expressive doorwings that just 'begged' to be ravished. He had balked at the words that his Carrier seemed to know about which position in the berth he enjoyed more.

Ratchet had once said that he being from such a high standing Praxian family, Prowl had doorwings that could bring any other Praxian to his knee struts in desire if he ever decided to attend the megacycely Praxus C 17 Gala. Prowl however, never believed Ratchet. He also never expected his Carrier would groom him to be the perfect Carrier with a vast amount knowledge of social standing and professional etiquette. Just like his own Carrier had been raised to be but when the dancing lessons started, it rammed home that he would one day be displaying his doorwings in a _very_ different way than he was used to, to the one that he adored and loved.

A gentle kiss and questing glossa had Prowl tilting his helm back to allow the Spec Ops mech better access to his mouth. Pulling himself closer to Jazz's warm frame, the tactician forgot his thoughts about doorwings and Praxian duty. Softly reminding himself that the night of their bonding he would be performing a special service just for Jazz. He would dance with the saboteur at another time with sensuality to his own well practised movements. But for now he allowed himself to be lazy in the arms of his lover and be led where Jazz chose.

Dimmed optics flared bright with surprise when his mouth was let go and Jazz loosened his grip, slowly dipping his helm so that a glossa could trail over his quivering doorwings. Prowl was already having difficulty controlling his doorwings' movements and now they never seemed to stop trembling in Jazz's grasp.

A small gasp of his own echoed through the baseline of the music, subtly hidden but easily heard by Jazz. Prowl jerked sharply when a warm, wet mouth curled around the tip of his right doorwing and _nibbled_ at the sensitive sensor it found there. Back struts bent backwards and strained against the assault to his systems, the young Tactician clawed at Jazz's thigh plating to try and get him to stop he was going to fall to his knees in front of his lover at this rate. A quiet anticipation built in his systems and slight trepidation in the event that his knee struts were ready to give way from beneath him, and considering he was already mostly supported in Jazz's arms it was slightly frightening that he could topple their delicate dance to the floor in an undignified crash. Prowl was slightly disappointed however when Jazz sensed his weakness, curled his arms around him tighter and pulled his delicious mouth away.

Prowl was trembling in the heat of a building charge, it was steadily frying his will from the inside. He had fantasized what it would be like to be bonded to this mech and now he knew one thing for sure however, he would be waking up to his lover's lust almost every orn if this was what Jazz was like every morning...

Prowl allowed a rare happy smile at that, it was definitely a more pleasant way to wake up than a shrill alarm ringing in his helm incessantly. Denta now nibbling at his chevron, had Prowl clinging to Jazz's swaying body to try and keep from falling. Twisting in his arms so that he could lay his helm on Jazz's should. Jazz was most likely wanting to leave another form of ownership upon himself but Prowl was about to put his pede down when a stray servo started playing with the catches of his spark chamber, the sensation making the Praxian shudder before he bit down on the gleaming shoulder in front of him.

"J-Jazz?" Prowl called uncertainly. "W-we r-really need to speak to C-Carrier R-Ratchet first." Prowl voiced now slightly panicked and afraid. However despite his trepidation he just saw his lover's lip plates curl in a gentle forgiving smile before resting upon his own.

"Forgive meh Swee'spark. Can ya blame a lover fer tryin' though?" Prowl was greeted with a lopsided grin as Jazz continued to finger his delicate armour, dipping beneath the seams and touching places that made the tactician soon forget just what it was he was protesting against. At his engine's sultry purr and slight rev; Jazz's heated chuckled became like molten iron through his Energon lines. Prowl bit his bottom lip plate and found the decency to blush at his encouraging reaction, darkness curling about his vision. That servo pulled away from his chest armour and rested on the back of his neck components, allowing their helm's to rest together delicately at Prowl's whine of distress as the touching stopped.

"S' 'nnocent lit'le Prowlie an' Ah know yer all mine. Jus' 'cause we're waitin' fer yer Creators permission doesn't mean we can't 'njoy ourselves fer now." Jazz purred, his visor trained on every movement Prowl made to the music. Swaying, graceful hips that allowed for that beautiful per aft to follow every movement and Jazz uttered his own groan of arousal, servos automatically groping and claiming. A vocalized squeak of surprise and enjoyment as Prowl realized what Jazz had done. A deep blush spread across Prowl's cheek plates, mouth parting in surprise and slight arousal as the hidden charge of overload built steadily. For Jazz, he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Not able to contain himself any longer, Jazz acted quickly and slyly. Having the Tactician pinned to the berth beneath him with those beautiful optics staring at him in lust, slight confusion at the change of position and the interruption of their dance. But most of all it was the love in that stare that made Jazz melt, his helm coming to rest against a roaring spark pulse that pulsed _only_ for him.

It was a love he never thought he'd be able to find and Jazz knew that he wanted to just go past all the formalities of a bonding and open his spark chamber to claim Prowl for his, never mind the secrets he would be revealing nor the secrets Prowl would be sharing with him. Even though he had an entire side to him that was dark he didn't feel afraid that Prowl would push him away. In fact he knew his Prowler would be able to control his more violent urges more easily and offer him peace of spark that he never knew even existed in this world. Delicate fingertips danced across his sensory horns and Jazz shuddered, his visor only trained on his beloved.

What he saw was something for his optics only, the satiated expression from the night before's escapades were still traced across beautiful features. It was now mingling with the fresh arousal of this morning and what they were doing. It was a wonderfully relaxed expression, rare on one so work drive, that he never wanted anyone to see it but him. He didn't want to share. There was nothing he wanted more than to bind this beauty to him in every way conceivable.

"Jazz! We're going to be late!" Prowl uttered a soft protest when Jazz trailed kisses down his neck cabling. They had been putting off their conversation with Ratchet and Wheeljack for three orns now; both of them suddenly afraid that their love would be denied and they would be separated by force. But this orn, Prowl had decided that he wanted nothing more than for Ratchet to know about his happiness too. He flailed as he saw his beloved's evil little smirk before a claw like servo brushed against his heated interfacing panel. Prowl bit back a scream.

"Aww, but Prowl, we haven't gotten started yet." Jazz murmured seductively. The saboteur continued his assault without even stopping to acknowledge the ticking of his chronometer. They were indeed already late and working his little Prowl into a frenzy with dirty promises and subtle touches was not helping Prowl concentrate at all. That was until his Creator-Creation Union flared and Ratchet suddenly invaded his spark.

_**::Prowl? It's getting late in the morning and Jazz is expected back on duty in two breems. You two better be outside my office in ten kliks! I'm not waiting anymore!::**_ Ratchet yelled and Prowl flinched, suddenly sitting up. A flash of guilt pulling at his faceplates as he tried to push Jazz off of him. Ratchet was right, they had been stringing the Medic along long enough. Prowl bit his lower lip plate and kept the bond open purely or his reply, hoping his pleasure wasn't drifting through the bond.

_**::Yes Carrier, we'll be there.::**_ Prowl promised; the bond slamming shut as a surge of pleasure nearly whited out his vision but he finally managed to get Jazz's attention.

Jazz stilled at the look of concern on Prowl's faceplates, a flash of guilt and slight panic. Realizing that something must be wrong, Jazz pulled away from what he was doing and sat at the edge of the berth.

"Prowler wha' 's wrong?"

"Carrier contacted me. We have to go." Prowl replied, slightly dazed as terror crept into his spark. What if Wheeljack said no? Prowl was trembling slightly, even though there was a charge still clouding his systems it was quickly dissipating in the face of his fear. He was never more glad for Jazz's strong arms as he was pulled into a fierce, comforting embrace and led out of the quarters. Glad that this once Jazz was willing to take the lead in the formal sense...

0oooo00oooo0

Ratchet smirked at his lover, Wheeljack's indicators flashing a slight white in amusement as he leaned with his hip against his bondmate's desk, a look of nonchalant amusement dancing across blue optics. The tension in the room was already building at a steady rate and Ratchet finally allowed his playful nature to peak out across the surface of his scowl, a hidden smirk and a small snicker the only indication that he was enjoying every fragging klik of this. Even though it brought Wheeljack's full attention to him, Ratchet just ignored him and leaned his cheek plate on his propped up servos, he had other things to think about. A decidedly cheeky smile curling at his faceplates at Wheeljack's touch to his rigid back struts. White armour shimmering in the bright artificial light of his office and his frame was still slightly trembling from the rush of pleasure he had gotten across the open bond with his youngest sparkling. He hadn't been expecting _that_ when he had called out to him...

Whatever he had interrupted it hadn't been _anything_ innocent. He smiled again secretly, not caring that Wheeljack draped himself over his back and rested warm servos on his shoulder plates in a bout to get him to calm himself.

"Ratchet you are pure evil." Wheeljack remarked in a conspiratorial whisper, the engineer was now just slightly concerned for his youngest creation. However no matter his remark, his beloved Ratchet just smirked and turned his attention back to face door - awaiting the arrival of their guests with anticipation. The Medic could already guess what it was that they wanted to see him about, and he already knew his answer but Prowl didn't know that nor did Jazz. Watching them dance around the subject for three orns now was highly amusing for the tactician's Carrier.

Besides it wasn't so difficult to notice that Prowl was distancing himself from their bond already. It was almost as if he was preparing Ratchet for the break in their bond, knowing what was going to happen and trying to ease the pain already. Hmmm, that was just like his youngest but Prowl could also be transparent too often. Something he had picked up from Wheeljack. Despite what his little sparkling had lived through, Ratchet never saw his initial innocence fade despite the way he had lost his seals at such a young age and in such a violated manner that he was given no choice in the matter.

"My, my he's so grown up already." Ratchet satisfied smirk turned gentle for a klik as he marvelled at the events of the last few vorns. The only two who had managed to break the Creator-Creation Union before they had even been bonded to a sparkmate was Sunny and Sides and Ratchet never expected his youngest to show the same tenacity as them. Although Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had most likely broken the bond to keep the Medic from feeling the pain that was inflicted on them in the harsh battlefields. It only now occurred to Ratchet that Prowl was also the first of his four sparklings to want to bond and to find his sparkmate, so the Ark's CMO didn't know whether to be proud, angry, upset or just weep for the loss he knew was coming. Prowl was very special to Ratchet and he was already missing his itty bitty youngling.

Prowl however, was an itty bitty youngling that wasn't so young anymore and nor was he the same vulnerable sparkling that used to cling to Ratchet's pedes whilst the Praxian Lord worked in the Medbay. Ratchet just couldn't leave his vulnerable Prowl at home with his brothers and giving the young Praxian to Wheeljack to look after those orns was like asking for trouble. He didn't need his beloved sparkmate blowing their littlest sparkling up in a failed invention.

Feeling to brush of sorrow across their sparkbond had Wheeljack curling an arm around Ratchet's shoulder plates and placing a kiss on the back of his helm, missing the gleaming silver chevron on purpose. Knowing that the action would only antagonize Ratchet's already wavering temper and the Medic was for once calm and perceptive to both their emotions, something that wasn't always the case and also caused a lot of fights between them. The make-up 'facing however was always good...

"They've grown up so fast 'Jack. Am I going to lose all of them so quickly?" Ratchet mourned deeply, that spark deep sadness from before settling across his processors and refused to leave him at all. He truly was losing all his sparklings, even though they hadn't gone to the Well of Sparks it seemed just as painful that they were growing up too fast for his liking.

_**::No Ratch, you're not losing them.:: **_Wheeljack soothed gently, embracing a sitting Ratchet from behind as best he could with his added height. ::_**They'll always know who to come to when they need us. I bet our little Prowl will be joining us in our spare berthroom when he's had his first lovers spat, discovered he's Carrying and just when he's alone and Jazz is away on a mission.:: **_Wheeljack reassured, although it was difficult keeping the emotions from his side of the bond also quiet. For him Ratchet's uncharacteristic emotions were affecting him as well.

_**::He loves you Ratchet, you and him connect in a way that only you two can understand. He will **__**never**__** forget you, never forget **__**who**__** it was that always offered him comfort and who it is that he can still turn to for comfort.::**_ Wheeljack whispered, reassuring his lover and himself as best he could. It was only a klik or so later that Ratchet started leaning into his embrace and then the engineer noted the slight tensing of Ratchet's frame against his own as the doors to his office swished open. Wheeljack was sure that if Ratchet still had his doorwings then they would now be held in a tense, high 'V' with slight tremors of hidden emotions.

Wheeljack spared a glance at the Spec Ops Director when they entered the office who, in turn, gave him a knowing grin whilst the nervous Sire looked towards Prowl in slight concern. His youngest was in clear distress and looked slightly afraid of facing them fully, hiding behind Jazz as much as his frame would allow. Yet Wheeljack immediately relaxed when he saw Jazz lean back to whisper something in Prowl's audio, his white pede discreetly brushing against Prowl's trembling one before the saboteur entwined their servos together with such skill that it looked like they had been bonded to each other for vorns rather than just getting to the beginning stages. It was then that Wheeljack knew that Prowl was in good hands, he had _never_ seen the sometimes ruthless, by reputation and actions, Spec Ops mech show such calm kindness and engage in tactile display so openly. There was such care between the two of them that there was no doubt that they were sparkmates.

Ratchet smiled at Prowl's tense doorwings now giving a happy little flutter at seeing both his Creators calm and not angry. He had seen the little display before and the Medic sighed, that sadness from deep within his spark had yet to fade but when Prowl seemed so happy with Jazz how could he deny his beloved sparkling what he had wanted at the same age as well?

He _couldn't_ and for Ratchet that was the problem, he was completely torn about what decision to make. He wanted to let his youngest go and allow him to live the life that he deserved but he also wanted to lock Prowl away in his room so that Ratchet could have his youngest sparkling all to himself for the rest of his life. Letting go was hard, the Medic discovered and Prowl meant a lot to him. What Wheeljack had whispered across their bond had been true, Creator and Creation that they were -shared a bond that he didn't even share with his first born. With a dejected sigh, Ratchet motioned for the couple to take a seat, shrugging Wheeljack's servos from his shoulders and turning his sole attention to the two mechs seated in front of his desk. Just because he was letting go didn't mean he could have a little fun with this, he deserved that much right?

"You've been avoiding me Prowl and since it was _you_ who asked to see _me_ and your Sire it makes me worry. Is something the matter?" Ratchet asked, frowning in false concern just so he could watch Prowl squirm under his gaze. Jazz seemed as unflappable as always so he rather turned his attention to his youngest. Ratchet dutifully ignored his beloved's pede kicking his shin plating in retaliation for what he said, Ratchet was teasing them he knew it but until they brought up the subject themselves he wasn't going to give them any indication that he knew why Prowl had asked to his Creators in such a formal environment.

The Praxian elders used to say that ignorance was bliss and even faking that ignorance could give Ratchet peace of processor for a few more kliks―.

"I-I want to bond with Jazz!" Prowl's blurted suddenly.

Or astroseconds, Ratchet mused wilfully...

A long vented sigh left his tired intakes as the elder pure bred Praxian shuttered his optics, a deliberate frown tugging at his lips before he cycled open his optics with a gentle, understanding smile. The silence was long and filled with tension and uncertainty, Prowl was fidgeting - his doorwings never still and his servos clenching and unclenching against his thigh plating. Ratchet gave him a smile of reassurance before he glanced over his shoulder; his cherry red servo lifting to lie against Wheeljack's blast mask affectionately. Blue optics offlined in contentment as Wheeljack leaned into the touch, his indicators flashing happily at the contact before Ratchet turned his attention back to the two mech seated in front of his desk. His servo entwining with Wheeljack's on the table to display the deep connection they shared with stellar cycles of experiencing in each other's close company.

"Are you sure this is what you want Sweetspark?" Ratchet said softly, he just had to make sure there was no hesitation in his beloved sparkling's optics. "There will be sacrifices to be made, our bond will snap Prowl and so will all your others with 'Jack, Sunny and Sides. Bar Blue's of course, but even then_ I_ cannot deny you the right to your love." Ratchet whispered, now resigned and ready for what he already knew was coming. Searching his youngest creation's optics frantically for any flicker of doubt and resignation - there was none of course and Ratchet nodded. Prowl didn't even have to give an answer, that was how well and deep their bond ran and Ratchet smiled towards both of them.

His optics landing on Jazz, after all the older mech had done for his sparkling he also couldn't find it in his spark to be angry at the saboteur for taking Prowl away. He had already chewed the composed Spec Ops Director when he and Wheeljack had been approached to initiate a formal bond courting. There was nothing more to say to Jazz but one thing...

"Look after him Jazz. I know that I don't need to repeat myself, what you know about dismembering bodies and making no mech ever find them again is trebled in what my knowledge holds. I'm sure you know _what_ an enraged Medic Carrier is capable of." Ratchet smiled sweetly at the suddenly nervous Spec Ops Director. Oh, he still had it. He could scare any mech, no matter what standing...

"Carrier!" Prowl's horrified shout dragged Ratchet from his playful musings as he chuckled at his youngest sparkling's actions. Prowl was trying to hide behind his servos at what his Carrier had just said to his beloved, he was completely mortified. Ratchet turned towards Prowl nothing his stunned optics and pale parlour to his cheek plates against the light of the room, there was a slight flicker to his optics dimness and brightness setting - making them jump between light and dark blue. _That_ never bode well and Ratchet knew that Prowl was fighting a processor crash. The Medic stood to rush to Prowl's side when his youngest gave a shaky reassuring smile to Jazz and his sudden quietness faded as he gave a little happy and relieved yelp whilst he jumped from his chair and into Jazz's lap.

The sight might have been comical was it not for the concern that Ratchet felt; how long had it been since Prowl's Battle Computer had caused his systems into a complete crash? If it had been more than a metacycle then Ratchet knew it was going to be bad this time... He opened his mouth plates to interject and inquire about Prowl's health but was stopped with a servo resting on his shoulder plates.

Ratchet looked up at Wheeljack in askance to his calming actions and only saw the Chief Engineer shake his helm negatively at what he was about to do.

_**::Leave them be Ratch, let them bathe in their happiness for now. Medical questions is only going to complicate things::**_ Thoroughly and guiltily appeased by his lover, Ratchet turned his attention back to the pair. He couldn't help it, he would always worry...

"Now since that has been resolved!" Ratchet yelled, breaking apart the rather heavy petting that continued in his office and in front of him. "I want each of you in my Medbay for a systems check _before_ you take any further steps towards creating your bond." Ratchet pointed out smugly, in his peripheral vision he could see Wheeljack rub his faceplates in exasperation before a rare sigh left the Engineer's intakes softly so that only he could hear it. Ratchet just glared over his shoulder before turning his attention to Prowl and Jazz.

"Now OUT! I'll see you later at your own convenience." Ratchet shooed the younglings out of his office with a frown of antipathy. It was like looking at him and Wheeljack before they had sparked the first time...

"Oh Frag!" Ratchet yelped as the door closed behind the pair, desperately trying to rise out of his chair. No! Prowl was still too young to Carry!

Wheeljack just kept his lover in his seat and observed Ratchet with a concerned frown marring his half hidden faceplates. He hadn't seen Ratchet like this in a long time and it was slightly disconcerting knowing that this situation was eating Ratchet up from the inside. He could feel his beloved's panic as it engulfed their bond and nearly overwhelmed his processors.

"What is it Ratch? Please tell me." Wheeljack asked, slightly panicked himself now. Had something gone wrong? Was Prowl hurt? Oh Primus please don't let it be anything to do with the former and the latter of his thoughts.

"'Jack! Prowl's too young to carry!" Ratchet wailed pitifully, turning in his chair to cling to his bondmate in search of warm comfort. Wheeljack just stilled for a few astroseconds before he chuckled deeply, that was what Ratchet was panicking about? Wheeljack just laughed and tightened his arms around Ratchet's slighter frame as he willingly gave the comfort that Ratchet seemed to seeking from him.

"Oh Ratch, what am I going to do with you? Just because Prowl had asked to bond with Jazz doesn't automatically mean he'll take the first time." Wheeljack soothed, not disappointed when Ratchet sighed into his plating. Hopping from where he was seated, Ratchet pushed himself onto the edge of his desk to come face to face with his lover. Just because 'Jack had said that Prowl might not take the first time did not mean he was ready for his youngest to Carry so soon. It would be very dangerous and Prowl could die, or not. He'd been about the same age and he'd carried twins to full term...

"FRAG!" Ratchet bellowed in his anger, standing quickly and nearly running over his bondmate to rush after Prowl and warn him of the consequences of too frequent spark merges but Wheeljack easily gripped his upper arm and stilled the Medic's frantic movement. Wheeljack easily pushed Ratchet back onto the desk and gave a very familiar disarming smile, his blast mask retracted long ago when the door to the office had closed behind Prowl and Jazz earlier. Ratchet just stared at that charming lop sided smile, much like Sideswipe's, on his beloved's faceplates and gave into the arms wrapping around his waist and pushing him to lay back against the desk's smooth surface.

"Let them be. It can only strengthen what they already have." Wheeljack murmured lovingly, lip plates hovering a few astroinches above Ratchet's own. The Medic's fast intakes tickling his olfactory sensors with a sweet smell that he was so used to. The Chief Engineer gave no warning as he devoured his Medic's warm, wet and welcoming mouth hungrily. It had been _too_ long since they had indulged in this and it was easier this way to satiate both Ratchet's worry and desire in one go. His beloved only mewled beneath him and pressed into his chassis eagerly, the friction already heating static and building a pleasant aroused charge.

"Eager are we?" Wheeljack purred seductively only to still when Ratchet pushed him with overwhelming strength and flew from where he was pressed against the desk. He easily turned the tables on his lover as he now sat straddling Wheeljack's lap with eager servos bent into sensitive wiring.

"Shut up 'Jack and frag me already!" Ratchet yelped as his aft was squeezed in retaliation. The action nearly making Ratchet collapse and cling eagerly to his bondmate in search of over fraught pleasure. "Took you long enough to notice." Ratchet huffed eventually but gave in to his beloved's ministrations just as easily, his plating was still tingling from where he had pushed open his bond with Prowl. He had never suspected to stumble upon something very naughty that the two of them had been doing, but he had and it still affected him. It wouldn't take long for his cooling fans to start humming and a charge to build through his circuits. Just the way he liked it...

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl shifted nervously from his kneeling position, Jazz was directly behind him - teasing servos running across his doorwings as the older mech polished him from helm to pede until he literally gleamed. For what purpose Prowl was still a bit unclear about and didn't want to think too much about, he'd enough stress for one orn. The scent drifting from the wax was intoxicating just as was the sensations that Jazz evoked from his tingling armour. It was both erotic and arousing the tactician more than it should have and that worried Prowl. His heated, unsteady vents was now a constant reminder that he still had a half finished charge that was still unreleased from their morning's interrupted playful activities. He squirmed again and shivered when Jazz nuzzled his audial receiver and purred a soft endearment of love, a sly glossa following and _deliberately_ tickling the sensitive plating and making Prowl keen helplessly in bliss.

"Sit still Prowler! I 'ave to go see Optimus 'nd ya 'ave te come wit' me. Ya wan' te look yer best right?" Jazz whispered and Prowl nodded solemnly, what else could he do but try his best to keep the heated charge from flitting across his plating and frazzling his circuits or frying important relays? Prowl soon found that it was a very difficult concept to even contemplate so Prowl tried his hardest to keep it in, but halfway through Jazz's ministrations to his left doorwing (the one that had just been repaired with new sensors) the tactician overloaded quickly and relatively quietly compared to other times.

Stiffening uncertainly against Jazz's tentative strokes and giving a short, soft pleasured cry - back struts pressing against tentative clawed servos as he rode through the waves of pleasure. He was just as surprised by what had happened as he love and the fact that he had managed to overload so quietly in the first place. The young noble was slightly panicked when he felt Jazz stiffen behind him in shock, the actions of Jazz causing his cheek plates to be heated with flush of Energon. The noticeable pink stripe across his cheek plates not going unnoticed by the observant saboteur and caused small but delightful chuckle to spill into the atmosphere.

"J-Jazz I-I'm sorry!" Prowl yelped mortified but the saboteur just continued to chuckle delightfully whilst pressing comforting and understanding kisses to Prowl's red chevron. The saboteur taking obvious delight in the way beautiful black and white plating trembled slightly from the force of the completely unexpected overload, doorwings quivering at his touch and little sounds of enjoyment spilling from the Praxian's static laced vocalizer. He could already feel Prowl's tense frame melt back into his fingers in the afterglow of his pleasure and Jazz smiled to himself. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had barely noticed Prowl's state of being, unknowingly his fingers had pulled a blissful overload from his Prowler.

"'S ok Prowlie, Ah guess Ah deserve tha' one. Ah've been riling ya up since this mornin' haven't Ah?" Jazz rumbled with a seductive leer, enjoying the shiver of delight that chased across Prowl's armour plating. The tactician was now turned around and buried against his chassis and when Jazz felt Prowl nod against his chest armour, where he was now hiding his flushed appearance, Jazz just stroked his helm until Prowl relaxed completely. Afterward he quietly finished up buffing off scratches and paint transfers that had been missed that morning in the cleansing racks, hiding his own aroused state from the observant tactician quite well. He was trained in that ater all, Spec Ops had a special course where pleasure was used as an interrogation tool and Jazz was the only mech that had lasted more than fifteen orns without breaking and even then his instructors had told him that pleasure would never be used to pry information from him.

He was slightly masochistic in that sense, allowing for a charge to build and holding it to himself for as long as possible.

Jazz thoughts however turned towards the meeting with Ratchet that morning and had been completely surprised by the Medic's reaction to their request for a bond, and now the usually calm Spec Ops Director found that he could barely hide the happy flutter of his spark and his contented mood overtaking him from the inside. It was an inner reflection of the visible relief Prowl held and the constant happy flutter of his ever restless doorwings. It seemed that the both of them had expected the Medic to tear them apart and reconfigure them without any interface protocols but they had been _so_ wrong. It was in those few moments when Ratchet had been vulnerable that Jazz had seen the true care that Ratchet showed for his sparklings. Caring enough to let his youngest go and make a life of his own away from the Medic's all seeing optics. Offering Prowl a life that Ratchet himself enjoyed with his bondmate. To Jazz it made Ratchet just more respectable in his visor, knowing that he held the power to stop this but he didn't. Instead he agreed.

Prowl shifted, slightly uncomfortable when Jazz went suddenly quiet before pulling him to his pedes. Their servos entwined briefly when Jazz pulled him in for a quick peck on his cheek plates and a brush of gentle servo against his helm. The Praxian shifted nervously, after their meeting with his Carrier that morning Prowl had been so certain that Ratchet wasn't going to allow him to bond with Jazz but now however he needed to say thank you to Ratchet and find a way to ease the pain of the bonds he was going to be breaking in preparation for his bond with Jazz. Prowl knew that he also needed to show his appreciation to his Carrier for everything that Ratchet had done for him during his entire existence. And yet the young tactician was a bit stuck on what to do, maybe Jazz would be willing to help him with that?

"'re ya ready Prowl?" Jazz asked, unknowingly dragging a contemplating Prowl's attention to him again whilst he was checking himself and Prowl over one last time for any inconsistencies in their paint. Luckily there was none...

"N-no." Prowl admitted, now slightly afraid of what was about to happen. He had almost forgotten that Jazz was taking him to a _private_ meeting with the Prime. "W-why would he want to meet me?" Prowl asked uncertainly, he had never met the Prime in person before so why would the _Prime_ want to meet a lowly tactician? A low ranking tactician whose plans killed innocents because he couldn't get the calculations and variables right? It made _no_ sense that he would want to meet Prowl along with his top Spec Ops agent and TIC of the entire Autobot army. The logical conclusion that Prowl could come up with did just not compute and he was already fighting with his core components already. It was a strive he hadn't had to resort to in a while and he had narrowly avoided a processor crash that morning when Ratchet had told him his bond was accepted and blessed.

Prowl just hoped that Optimus Prime didn't do anything that he couldn't process because he did _not_ want to lose control of himself and embarrass himself more than he already had. All he needed now was a complete systems crash because his lifelong glitch decided to compete with a completely illogical situation and provide a dangerous ending to a giddy orn...

"Hmmm, tha's a surprise Prowlie. Fer meh te know and fer ya to find out." Prowl took a few moments to realize what Jazz was noting so playfully in his audial receiver before he shuddered, fighting off another bout of dizziness that his glitch was enforcing upon his logic circuits. This was becoming a bit too much for him and he knew it. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea in the first place.

"I-I'm not good with surprises Jazz." Prowl muttered honestly and to his slow moving pedes, refusing to make optic contact with his beloved's beautiful visor in case it sent him reeling with too much information. For Prowl it felt like he was walking towards his doom. Jazz didn't know about his Logic and Emotional defect and Prowl was _too_ afraid to tell him about it. The young tactician was desperately afraid that Jazz would find that part of him too revolting to accept and would never complete the bond with him; leaving him spark broken in the ashes of his shattered dreams.

This was why he hoped to complete their bond before Jazz saw it happing, because seeing it and knowing about it was two different things. Curse his never ending insecurities! Prowl mourned deeply, he was never going to get over some things in his life and it was partly due to his stunted growth from an incomplete split spark bond. Not that Bluestreak was to blame but that was just the way spark mechanics worked, their separation from one another at such a young orn had made it difficult for Prowl to grow up as a normal, healthy sparkling. Pit, he was in Ratchet's Medbay more than any youngling should ever be and he knew that it was both worrying for his Creators and for Bluestreak too after he found out.

Jazz was slightly concerned at Prowl's sudden quiet depressive mood, his black claw like servo rested against Prowl's lower back strut as he gently guided the nervously shaking Praxian towards the long corridor that led to the Prime's office. Jazz was very aware of Prowl's nervousness and slight terror and those quivering doorwings would just not still in their frantic movements. Jazz hadn't seen Prowl like this since the first time they had interfaced and he sighed softly, gripped the edge of one doorwing to stop the frantic movements and was pleasantly surprised when that doorwing immediately stopped it quivering and pulled into a sharp 'V' high up on Prowl's back plates.

That had never happened before, why was Prowl so nervous now? Primus, Jazz was sure that Prowl would never show emotions like this in the open but now he was proved wrong. Just what was going on? And just where did Prowl learn emotional control like that? He had never seen a mech as expressive as Prowl, in private, become so cold and unapproachable in public.

The control Prowl showed over his wayward emotions was astonishing to Jazz, there was no visible trace of the fear he had seen in Prowl's optics before and yet the Praxian's frame was practically vibrating against his own in anxiety.

"'Re ye alright Prowlie?" Jazz asked softly and frowned when he only received a stiff nod in return, there was no change in expression to Prowl's beautiful faceplates and no outward true answer to his question. He was going to have to ask Prowl about that later. Those features were so stoic and devoid of any form of life that it frankly scared the saboteur into believing that his overly expressive beloved had a personality glitch. Being so strict with himself and having such marvellous control was not something Jazz saw everyday and he realized there was still so much he had to learn about this wonderful mech of his. He also noted on the side that the Praxian noble would make a good spy with enough training and could probably fool anyone he chose to believe him but Jazz also knew that Prowl was much too innocent for such deception, he would never forgive himself if he did it.

"Ya'll be fine." Jazz soothed softly, clearly at a loss of what to do to sooth his clearly distressed Prowler. Shrugging his aside for now, the saboteur laid his servo against the security imprinter on Prime's office door. The system designed by Red Alert allowing for the free entry of both the TIC and Ratchet. The two on the Ark with direct access to the Prime, Ratchet for his medical skill and Jazz for his need to be able to move silently and report on events that were quietly upsetting most of the time.

Jazz and Prowl were expected for a meeting anyways so Jazz saw no reason not to use his access, knew that there wouldn't be anyone there but Optimus and the large mech's endless stack of datapads. Besides, Optimus always told to come in, there was no need to knock all the time - he was the trusted Spec Ops Director anyways. In the corner of his visor he saw Prowl stiffen uncomfortably so Jazz laid his free servo on Prowl's shoulder plate to offer silent support to the Praxian. Hoping to ease the tenseness in his shoulder plates, doorwings and strangely flickering optics before he turned his visor towards the swishing doors of Optimus' office. Ready to step inside and intodu―.

The spec ops mech however froze at what the other side of the door revealed. Visor blinking on and off several times as he tried to make sense of just what he was seeing. A sound of distress leaving his vocalizer as he observed the _usually_ reserved white and red mech sitting in the Prime's lap, no _writhing_ in Optimus' lap - helm thrown back in pure bliss as he rode the larger mech's spike with true abandonment. It was a surprise he could not quite comprehend and Jazz wasn't quite sure what to do about the discovery but eventually he let his servo fall back from the pad on the wall. The doors hissing shut just as quietly as they had opened the first time, cutting off the erotic scene quite deliberately.

Now that was a surprise he _didn't_ need to cloud his processor, Jazz admonished himself harshly for his fantasies. How many times had _he_ dreamed of Prowl in the same position...He never expected the Security Chief and all around paranoid mech to _bend_ like that, no matter how he was convinced and coaxed...

"J-Jazz? H-help." The voice was so faint and panicked that the Spec Ops mech immediately whirled away from his thoughts and turned around at the fraught sound; he barely had enough time to reach out his arms to catch Prowl before he crashed to the floor. It wasn't even a nanoklik later that his comm. system was already reaching out frantically for Ratchet. He was completely perplexed as to what happened but he picked Prowl up and pulled him into his arms, cradling the slightly smaller frame against his chassis before rushed towards the Medbay. There was no time to waste and he seemed to know it, even with Ratchet cursing up a storm and nearly frying his comm. relays...

_**~Several Kliks previously: Commanding Officer's Corridor~**_

Prowl had been nervous enough as it was and Jazz's reassurances that everything would be fine, and that Optimus would like him, didn't help the Praxian's taxed systems as much as he hoped it would. He was wound tighter than a protective turbofox around his last crystal treat but Prowl knew that he could, no _would_ endure this until it had passed. Pulling his doorwings high up on his back in a show of deeply controlled discipline, he only discretely took comfort from just being a few astroinches apart from Jazz's warm frame next to him. Prowl was well aware that he was vibrating with tension and terror as his stoic mask slid into place and skewed other mechs' true first impressions of him. It was a defence mechanism and one he hadn't used in a while, but hopefully it would still work to hide turmoil.

Prowl braced himself for anything that Cybertron could throw at him now. He had suffered enough that orn and he hoped that Primus' sick humour did not reach out to him that orn, because there was a way that things could get much worse for him. It was moments like these that Prowl felt as if everything was wrong with him and his plating was too heavy for his frame, his processor were throbbing with absolute ache. His weapons too dangerous to leave in his possession and his spark was too heavy for his spark chamber. Prowl noticed that his servos were curled into tight fists, the plating of his fingertips digging into his palm and leaving behind indentations of his anxiety. Luckily no one would see it and what he was doing, but that was but a small relief that they wouldn't judge him for it. It wouldn't be the first time h―.

"Ya'll be fine." Jazz calm voice cut through his panic again and Prowl relaxed minutely, trying not to let his systems glitch when he saw Jazz just lay his servo on the imprinter on the wall and in turn laid his other servo on Prowl's shoulder. Nope, breaking into the Prime's office - even with authorization - was not going to get him to crash. Not at all.

Biting his lip plate until he tasted Energon, Prowl tried his best to focus his optics through the spinning of his processors and his already failing motor functions. He placed a steadying servo on the wall next to him in hopes of regaining control of himself but the moment that imprinter blinked green and the doors swished open without a sound, the tactician froze completely and lost his careful, rigid control. His focus regained optics observing what was happening inside the Prime's office and that was it. He couldn't take it anymore, maintaining what little balance he had Prowl reached out a desperate servo towards Jazz in desperate help. It was just too much for him to process and his logic circuits were fritzzing up a storm like they had never done before.

"J-Jazz? H-help." Prowl forced from his quickly Energon depleting vocalizer. Optics flickering as his world started fading around him...the floor falling away from his pedes...his motor functions ceasing...processor shutting down...

**Imminent Complete Systems Crash:**

Prowl's strict HUD read in the bright red lettering of a _severe_ warning. The glitching tactician shuddered uncontrollably, knowing exactly what was coming next...

**Pending... 3.269 Astroseconds: **

**Preparing Memory Purge: Replay DATA AG-2335 to DATA AS-4476 - Stasis Induced Protection **

Pain exploded behind Prowl's optics and he gave a little cry in his suffering distress, the searing sensation burning across his spark quickly alerting four separate spark bonds of his pain and clear anguish. Prowl was barely aware of the feeling of warm, familiar servos reaching around his waist to catch him just as everything faded to black around him. His optics' blue light fritzzing out as his body went limp. The Praxian's usually divided attention was now solely turned inwards and rapidly losing focus to the internal warnings and screaming alarms in his helm.

**2.324 Astroseconds:**

**Prep - Cascade Cashe Crash. Protecting Valuable Data~**

**Memory Core, Personality Core, Protocols Firewalled Via Spark Imprint...**

**1.779 Astroseconds:**

**Medical Assistance Alerted, Required and Recommended**

**0.709 Astroseconds:**

**Re-activation Pending in Fifteen To Twenty Joors**

**0.0 Astroseconds (COUNTDOWN COMPLETE)**

**COMPLETE SHUT DOWN - STASIS FORCIBLY INVOKED**

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz could barely hold back the uncertain terror in his systems from showing in the perpetual dimming of his visor and his trembling servos curled at his sides. He nervously watched as Ratchet flitted around Prowl's berth constantly and his stoically professional facade never cracked. There were several wires and monitoring systems hooked up to Prowl's spark chamber and helm, all of them Jazz's basic medical programming could identify the use for and why they were there. It was leaving him feeling a little helpless in what to do to help. The data from the machines were running a clean stream of data to the Carrier Medic via hard-line connection and the over brightness of Ratchet's optics, like before a youngling cried, were distressing enough to observe only from the sidelines.

The image that Ratchet's grim features made and Prowl's preternaturally still form made Jazz fear that the only mech he had _ever_ loved so wholly with his spark was close to terminating on the medical berth before him and he was helpless to do anything about it. Prowl was clearly deep in stasis and even buried deeper into a memory purge that neither the Medic nor his future bondmate was privy to.

Jazz vented a deep sigh, the orn had started out so well and he had been truly happy but now he was struggling just to keep himself calm and ignore his screaming protocols to assassinate the one who had caused this. Keeping his nonchalant, calm appearance through all this as he leaned against the wall closest to Prowl without disturbing Ratchet, was proving one of the most difficult missions Jazz had ever undertaken.

Jazz became aware that with the way that Ratchet was glaring a hole though the doorway that Optimus had disappeared through earlier Jazz somehow knew that Prowl would pull through and be alright; Ratchet never showed anger like that and wasn't spitting fire when one of his patients was on the doorstep of Unicron. Jazz chuckled softly to himself, his sensitive sensory horns were still smoking from the lecture that Ratchet had given the Prime when Optimus had finally found out what had happened just outside his door. Even though they had been inside a _closed_ office door Jazz had still heard every single word and was glad that it wasn't him that had been the cause of Prowl's crash. He never wanted it to be him either...

A breem later, Jazz could have sworn that Optimus was sulking and slinking away from the Carrier's Pit-Spawned wrath, just as Ratchet exited his office looking exhausted and emotionally drained. Jazz had given him a sympathetic look and nodded in acknowledgement and Ratchet had taken one look at his beloved youngest sparkling before he stalked over to where Jazz was leaning against the wall. The only reason that Jazz was still in the Medbay was because he obeyed Ratchet and never bothered the Medic when he worked. He stood guard over Prowl like they were already bondmates and became the sentinel that protected Prowl from the harshness of the outside world. Besides, Ratchet seemed to have decided that his calm demeanour in stressful situations would help the Medic keep himself calm too. For a while it had worked.

Ratchet had settled next to Jazz, leaning against the wall himself to try and clear his spinning processors and possibly calm himself from blowing a gasket. The Medic had then looked towards Jazz with _deep_ understanding and explained to the saboteur exactly what had happened and why it had happened. Jazz had just been surprised that he had not been blamed for this, however Ratchet seemed to have known that it would have eaten him up on the inside if he had. Therefore the Medic had mercifully left the Spec Ops mech out of the line of his rage and wrench throwing skills.

_'You see Jazz, when Prowl was young he was separated from Bluestreak for many, many stellar cycles. The deprivation of losing a split spark twin and being the younger and more vulnerable of the twins left him more susceptible to damage and caused Prowl to develop a stunted growth in his emotional processor and relayed logic circuits. The wiring was never truly stable and when his warring emotions crash with his logic circuits this is the result.'_ Jazz recalled the words, visor flickering offline as he allowed only his senses to run over the activity in the Medbay. But mostly his attention was solely focused on the beat of his own spark pulse and that of the blinking machines hooked up to Prowl's systems.

_'It doesn't happen often,'_ Ratchet had continued softly._ 'But when it does, it can either be painless and quick - not lasting more than fifteen kliks or it can be severe like this one and last for joors on end. It depends on the shock to his systems and the time between previous glitches.'_ Jazz had nodded, his questions quelled and answered not only by what Ratchet had told him but also by the Medic's actions when Prowl had been brought in.

That was how Jazz knew for a fact that Prowl must have been in pain, because it had been Ratchet that had injected pain stimulants into his main Energon Line mere moments after Jazz had gotten the Praxian to the Medbay. Hopefully that would have faded now, Jazz pondered. Because Ratchet's actions seemed to have become less frantic and his movements more relaxed, things were turning for the better. And so it was that Jazz took in every little detail, knowing that it would become _his_ duty now to protect Prowl from everything, including the pain of such a glitch. If he couldn't find Ratchet in time, at least he would know what to do and how to help Prowl should he need it. Medic's were not always available and Jazz understood that, that was why his medical knowledge was so vast compared to other spies.

He never allowed anything to be done to him without knowing what it was for and why it was needed, being Cybertron's top Spec Ops agent had ingrained that into his processor a long time ago. Medics could be dangerous and could not always be trusted, especially not for someone like him who tampered with his own programming quite often. There was only one Medic he trusted impeccably and that was Prowl's Carrier.

"Have you tried to reroute the data processing through a third party that is not connected to his spark?" Jazz asked suddenly, stepping closer to his beloved now that Ratchet had cleared the berth he had been flitting around. Grabbing a chair, watching Ratchet for any adverse reaction and when he found none, he sat down and curled his servo around Prowl's still one. Jazz kept his composure on the outside as best he could but on the inside his spark was all aflutter with pain and apprehension - he hated seeing Prowl like this and he now understood what Prowl had felt when he too had been in stasis.

Jazz was acutely aware of Ratchet's subtle sigh, but only because his systems were on high alert. Visored optics, pure white in their blindness behind his visor, observed the Medic. Following the sounds as he settled himself on the berth directly parallel to Prowl's. Making sure to stay close so that Jazz was aware of his every move. Ratchet was the only one that knew what laid behind that beautifully crafted visor and always made sure to make some noise in case Jazz switched off his visor and relied on his senses only. Tired blue optics met with a emotionally dimmed visor, yes, Jazz was not looking at him but more like feeling him and hearing him only.

"We've tried everything Jazz," Ratchet replied morosely. "That was the original purpose of the Battle Computer that Wheeljack designed. It wasn't a perfect fix and when the BC locks up instead of his normal glitch it makes things worse that it should be." The Medic pointed out, disconnecting Prowl's monitoring systems from his medical hard-line and completely focusing on Jazz. He was the future of his family and the beloved that too cared for his Prowl and loved him just as much if not more than Ratchet.

"When Prowl was still a youngling he used to sit with me in my Practitioner Medbay, too afraid to go to school because of his insecurities. He glitched regularly then, especially when I threatened a patient with something illogical. Things such as reformatting them into a spark powered medical scanner, the Battle Computer helps in that sense but I believe that a true sparkbond with another mech will keep his systems more stable." Ratchet recounted with a smile. "You can also pull Prowl out of a crash like this faster than my medical knowledge can or you can even stop it from happening completely if you knew what the warning signs were. There are many possibilities but that is something for you to find out and for him to accept when he awakens."

"Things like this never have a perfect fix," Ratchet continued solemnly, optics offlining in what Jazz sensed, by feeling alone, was an attempt to keep his emotions from showing through. "If only I had been more alert that nightly orn Blue had been taken from us, none of this would have happened. Even Bluestreak would not have been affected by their forced separation. His systems run at a rate too high, straining his spark and making it seem too large for his chassis. He will automatically dominate any form of spark merge and I know for a fact that it isn't in his nature to be dominant." Ratchet continued softly and Jazz let him. "He also adjusted to his personal pain by his over talkative nature and hyper active approach to life, just like Prowl hides behind stoicism and internal fear."

Jazz relaxed back into his chair, helm laying against Prowl's still motionless servo as he listened to Ratchet ramble on. His processor picking up on information he never knew about and Ratchet probably never realized he was sharing at the moment. The Medic just needed someone to listen to him, sympathize and help him get over his own guilt and Jazz was willing to do anything to stay by Prowl's side. His attention, however, never strayed far from Prowl just as he was sure Ratchet's didn't either. It was after all what brought the two of them together in that moment and Jazz was learning more and more about the tight nit family unit, becoming closer to Ratchet and was being let in on secrets that only family members should be privy to.

Jazz decided it was a strangely warm way to welcome him into the family unit as Prowl's sparkmate.

0oooo00oooo0

_59 Stellar Cycles Ago:_

**::Prowl? Where are you? Stop hiding from me, I'm not going to hurt you.::**_ A familiar, warming voice called and the youngling stilled in his frantic organizing, the toys that his Sire had created for him was spread around him in a perfect logical circle - there were no recognizable flaws in the way he had set them out. Organized easily from smallest to largest, and taking it a step further the young Prowl reorganized those ones alphabetically, colour coded and according to their specific numerals again. Always using the lowest to highest, one always started from the lesser value before adding the bigger values, he thought to himself. His organizing skills was a trick that he had learned from Carrier Ratchet when the Medic wasn't looking or thought that Prowl didn't understand what he did to his medical tools after the orn was over and it was time to go back home. _

_:_**:Prowl? Where are you? Are we playing Creation and Creator hide and seek?::**_ The voice called out again and Prowl giggled lightly, shaking his helm in amusement. No, he wasn't playing anything. What he was doing now was vital to settling his bored processors. Delicate, medic worthy servos, curled around the organized circle of blocks before picking the one up he was looking for. A white finger tracing the black lettering, 55 Gama, with only an understanding that made sense to him. That was him, Prowl thought, Prowl - the youngest of the family and lowest on the priority list. This was why he was going on the bottom. _

_The next block a red 40 Delta, was for Sideswipe. He set about carefully packing the next row of blocks on top of the other one. Prowl smiled and selected the next row in the hierarchy. Tracing the yellow 39 feta eagerly and happily. That one was for Sunstreaker. Sunny was always nice to him, never played tricks on him that hurt his processors and besides, Prowl really liked Sunny - he was beautiful and his hugs were always as warm as the sunshine. Just like Carrier Ratchet's hugs were the best, never forgetting the kisses too - Prowl reminded himself sternly. They were always welcoming and loving his spark, even when he didn't have his own twin to love anymore. _

_Prowl hiccupped slightly, fingers reaching for the next block carefully. His spark was aching again, overwhelming him so suddenly and completely that it was searing a whole through his spark chamber but Prowl kept it bottled up inside of him. He didn't go and find Ratchet, he didn't want to bother Carrier with this anymore. Prowl could sometimes feel his Carrier's exasperation with him and the helplessness that Ratchet portrayed through bond hurt sometimes and it was almost like Prowl wasn't there anymore. It clearly affected his emotional stability as well. Besides Sire was supposed to be looking after him this orn, but where was he again? Prowl huffed, the prickling behind his optics distracting him from his very important task. _

_Instead of calling for his Carrier, the youngling wiped at his coolant leaking optics stubbornly and continued with his task - even through a haze of uncertainty he was working quite diligently. Steadily trembling servos reaching out for the greyish 26 Beta and he laid it as the next layer to his hierarchical pyramid. That one was Sire Wheeljack because Prowl knew that his Sire would always be the Beta in his spark. The white 12 Alpha, however, came to rest at the very top. The single most important block and the single most important feature in Prowl's little life. _

_His Carrier. _

_However, his pyramid was incomplete. Just like he was and like he'd always be. Prowl knew that there was _something_ very wrong with him and that he was defective, just like the younglings of his Orn Care Centre taunted him with orn in and orn out..._

_He was glitched, incomplete, worthless..._

_Being so young and not truly being able to understand what the meaning of those words were, yet understanding them well enough to feel the hurt let the young Praxian know that he wasn't good enough. The pain in his spark had Prowl suddenly wailing his grief loudly. The blue 49 Gamma resting in his palm was now being possessively pressed against his spark chamber, protecting the block from his internal pain. Or that was what he was trying to do, trying to sooth the broken bond that he was still too young to understand was still left broken. The one block was supposed to be the other half of his spark, that was supposed to be so much like him, but was also not._

_He cried and cried, his Creator-Creation Union vibrating against his spark and activating in his clear distress. Even as a familiar presence whispered comforts to him, Prowl didn't hear them over the din of his pain. _

_His pyramid was now incomplete and Prowl knew it, but the youngling also knew that he couldn't put the blue 49 Gamma in his family pyramid because there was no more blue 49 Gamma with them. There hadn't been for 7 stellar cycles and it would be illogical to place it there. Prowl knew his hierarchy, couldn't be illogical. It wasn't allowed to be...but he wanted to put that blue block there so badly...so badly that it began to hurt him physically and mentally..._

_Prowl cried harder, intakes hitching painfully and his face now smeared in his optics' franticly running coolant. When the door to Sire's secret room flew open Prowl didn't even notice, but he was acutely aware of the presence entering his, still supposed to be secret, playroom. The distraught youngling did not think or even process who had opened the door to his distress, he just threw himself blindly, and haphazardly against white pedes. Clinging to his saving Creator's presence for dear life to make sure that he was real and had not gone away like his other half had. _

_Cherry red servos easily reached down and with practised ease, gently picked him up and balanced Prowl against a red hip strut effortlessly. Prowl automatically wound his arms around Ratchet's neck for support and pressed his coolant smeared faceplates against a pristine white chassis. His black and white doorwings restless in their frantic movement. _

_"Hush Prowl, Sweetspark. Come on beloved Spark, tell Carrier what's wrong?" The deep voice soothed him gently and Prowl cried still, clinging tighter to his Carrier as he cried out his sorrow that he could never seem to explain. His spark was hurting more with every stuttering intake that he took and every stray thought that pressed against his flailing processor. Prowl heard Ratchet sigh clearly as the Medic pulled him away from his self created play area and away from the dangers of his Sire's laboratory. _

_"What happened?" Another familiar voice asked and Prowl briefly lifted his helm to peek at his Sire over Ratchet's shoulder plates. Those lovely optics looking at him in nothing but concern, those funny flashing fins that Prowl always found so amusing was now a deep blue in his Sire's distress. The EM field that reached out and brushed against Prowl's was warm and loving but it still felt distant and un-wanting. Prowl cried again, hiccupped sobs breaking the hush that had settled over the room. _

_Prowl was afraid, did Sire not like him anymore? Is that why he always kept such a large distance from him? It was Sire that had called out to him earlier but him not answering had probably made his Creator hate him now. He hadn't even come to look for him when he had cried. Only Carrier did and now Prowl was suddenly shy and slightly afraid of rejection, hiding himself against his Carrier's frame as he tried to shuffle out of view. ._

_"I don't know what happened 'Jack but I do know you were supposed to look after him." Ratchet's voice rose slightly in anger but not enough to disturb the youngling trying to disappear into his armour plating. "I'll take him to the Medbay with me then but _please_ make sure you remember to fetch the twins when their classes finish." Carrier was speaking in 'that' tone again but Prowl wasn't listening because it wasn't directed at him._

_When he decided Carrier had talked enough, Prowl tentatively unwound one arm from Ratchet's neck and waved the blue 49 Gamma block in his Creator's faceplates as if it would make him understand what was hurting him so badly and why he was needed Carrier's love now so badly. Carrier Ratchet however just took the blue block from his small servo, gave him a gentle smile and cooed softly in dismissal. He understood what Carrier wanted from him so he stayed quiet for the moment. _

_"I'll be with you now darling Sweetspark. Let me talk to Sire quickly." Prowl nodded in understanding. His now free hand curling into Ratchet's shoulder plating as he rested his helm against a warm spark chamber. Ratchet hoisted his small frame upwards and brought their spark chambers closer together so that Prowl's helm now rested against his shoulder plate more comfortably. Prowl could also hold onto Carrier's frame easier now than he had before. Innocent blue optics flickered offline as he waited, but the coolant tears continued to fall in sorrow. _

_"Listen 'Jack, I know this is hard for you - for all of us. Please remember that when I asked you to look after Prowl it was so that you could strengthen _your_ bond with him. You're practically afraid to touch him and he _needs_ the both of us to gain some semblance of stability. He's got no one else anymore 'Jack. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are too young to understand and yet you still keep Prowl at servos length." Ratchet's deep tone rumbled and Prowl relaxed in the warm frame, listening only to his Carrier talk to calm his rapid spark pulse and to dull the pain he felt inside. He didn't understand what they were talking about of course and for some reason, Prowl knew he shouldn't try to understand either. It was Creator talk, the talks he was often excluded from and not allowed to listen to. So he did as he was always asked and turned his attention somewhere else. _

_"It wasn't your fault that Blue was taken and neither was it mine though I wish we could find blame in ourselves somewhere because it would make this _so_ much easier to deal with, but it wasn't our fault." Ratchet's tone held a sad note and Prowl keened in distress lightly, he didn't like it when Carrier sounded like that. "The next time when Prowl cries and you can feel his distress, 'Jack, please pick him up and place him close to your spark chamber. That's what he craves the most because he constantly feels as if he is only half of a whole spark." Shifting his slight burden on his hip plates again, Ratchet wound his arms around Prowl tighter and placed a kiss on his gleaming chevron. Indicating that he had finished speaking and his attention was now solely on Prowl again. _

_"Come Prowl let's go," Prowl nodded lazily, optics flickering online to blink up at Ratchet slightly before, the briefly stopped coolant tears spilled over again, and he hiccupped. Intakes hurting with the strain and his spark splitting almost down the middle with feelings and emotions he didn't understand. "Shhh now, none of that. I promise Sire Wheeljack will read you a story tonight before recharge ok?" Ratchet soothed his youngest after feeling the fear of rejection whisper across their bond. Prowl nodded against Ratchet's neck components rubbing his chevron there for reassurance as he still tried to hide from optics not from his Creators and Siblings. _

_"Say goodbye to Sire, Prowl, we'll be seeing him a bit later." Prowl smiled sadly and hiccupped out his answer and waved uncertainly._

**:: Goodbye Sire.::**_ He sent over the almost always silent bond and felt a flicker of happiness when Sire Wheeljack waved back at him and smiled at him encouragingly. Decidedly placated until they reached Carrier's large Medbay, Prowl made no protest as he was placed on his special berth. He curled up almost immediately on his side and reached out in askance for his 49 Gamma block. Instead, a small cube of low grade with some silver was passed to him. The youngling blinked up at his Carrier and at the stern gaze and nod he dutifully drunk his fill of Energon before laying back down on his berth. _

_He pouted and reached out in askance again for the block he had dubbed 'brother', but instead he only receiving smooth and soothing strokes of an assured servo across his warm helm. It was easing him into an afternoon recharge that his systems were demanding quite regularly these orns. _

_"I'm not going anywhere Sweetspark. Recharge and when you're wake up you can tell why you were so upset." Prowl nodded, accepting what his Carrier told him before he was nodding off into a deep, satiated recharge. His, tiny, overtaxed systems shutting down one by one and easing into standby mode. There was a tiny glimmer of fear that he would dream of scary nightmares again, but he placated himself quickly, it was after all still early in the orn. Logically he shouldn't be having 'night'-terrors now because it wasn't the nightly orn yet. _

_Happy with his logic and with his Carrier promise, he fell deeper into recharge and never awoke to see the tears on his Carrier's faceplates as the servo stroking his helm never stopped. _

0oooo00oooo0

* * *

Thanks again for reading! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter and that it was satisfactory to your reading requirements. I ask only for a small review as payment for my hard work, pretty please with a cherry on top?

Anyways, see you guys again soon.

Your Humble Servant

DF


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Domain of Glass: Into the Dark

**Chapter:** Chapter 4

**Fandom:** Transformers

**Continuity:** G1

**Series:** Domain of Glass

**Pairing/s:** Jazz x Prowl, Bluestreak x Prowl

**Rating:** NC - 17

**Summary:** Prowl travels to the Dark Parts in Kaon in search of his split spark twin that was taken from their home when he was barely an orn old. However Bluestreak, not knowing the entire truth of his heritage is frightened and Prowl is left in a dangerous area of Cybertron. Not all things will go well...

**Chapter Summary:** Time is slowly ticking away, Prowl awakens from his Memory Flux in need of seeing his brother so he leave Jazz behind. Not something the saboteur will be happy about but he feels he needs to do it. A little love and affection spread further and for once Jazz walks in on something that he doesn't mind so much except his jealousy streak.

**Warnings:** Mech/Mech sex, sticky sex, mentions of sparkbonds, Carriers & Sires, smut, explicit explanation of sticky smut, twincest, tactile overloads, incest and Plug 'n Play.

**N/B:** First most important note, please not that the title had changed to Domain of Glass: Into The Dark! This is because this will be turning into a series where I will explore different pairings. A multi-chap fic about Ratchet and Wheeljack is now going to be published in a few weeks. Called Domain of Glass: Shattered Mirrors. Please look out for it, it's not really a prequel but it will be part of the series.

Anyways, there's a little here about Bluestreak's past and I hope it helps a bit but there will be more flashbacks since you guys seem to like them so much but for now enjoy the sexy smut and the little bit of plot at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Notes:

Astrosecond - 0.01 seconds

Nanoklik - 1 second

Klik - 1 minute

Breem - 8 minutes

Joor - 1 Hour

Cycle 18 Hours

Orn - Day

Metacycle - 6 years

Vorn - 83 years

Stellar Cycle - 83 vorns

"..." Talking

**"..."** Comm. line

_Thoughts_ or_ Emphasis_ on a word

~...~ Medical Hardline/ Hardline interfacing

_**::Sweetspark::**_ Spark Bond/Creation-Creator Union

* * *

0oooo00oooo0

Overwhelming darkness, perpetual solitude , poignant ache but more than anything it was only a synchronicity of frightful horror that haunted him more than other emotions. It was a symphony of emotions that could never be thrown away _nor_ truly accepted within himself. It was an emotional turmoil that Prowl was _so_ used to that waking up to it after a processor crash was not as unusual and painful as others thought it was, it was just unwanted and kept his spark fairly unbalanced.

His processors were left spinning at the data flux he had just lived through, images and feelings became clearer and clearer in his mind as they danced restlessly in front of his flickering optics. Darkness had been his Master in the memory flux and now that his dimmed optics onlined to the subtle lighting of the Medical Bay he couldn't help but suppress his shuddered before it settled his fear a bit more. It also told him that it was well into the recharge cycle of the nightly orn, Ratchet only ever put off the Medbay lights when it was time for the patients to recharge and rest or when he closed it for the night. It was late, which meant he was out for a fairly long time.

_**::Bluestreak? Blue? P-please I-I **__**need**__** you...::**_ Prowl cried miserably though their bond, his fingers lifting to wipe at the coolant tears that dribbled from his optics in a slow recognizable pattern just as his fingers reached out for his brother as if his ghost was standing right there in front of him. Prowl's spark was calling out for only _one_ specific mech. He really needed to see Bluestreak and his twin's subtle but noticeable pain over their bond was letting him know that they were _both_ feeling neglected and rejected at that time. It begged the question of why Ratchet hadn't let Bluestreak recharge on the same berth as him, as it was often done when Prowl had had a painful processor crash. Bluestreak was always an immense comfort after something so processor shocking and core shaking.

So instead, Prowl wiped at his falling tears as best he could. And tried his best to not feel as lonely as his spark was telling him that he was. Turning and sitting up on the berth so that his pedes now rested on the ground, Prowl gave an involuntary shuddered - allowing his doorwings to give a decidedly droopy swish of aching sorrow. His shoulder plates felt heavy with the weight of the world and his spark was overwhelmed with grief and all just from one Memory Purge.

Really, Prowl thought painfully, sometimes he sickened himself with how weak and ill he felt after one of his purges...

The abrupt spinning of his processors in retaliation to Prowl's suddenly tilt of his helm, forced him to keep still and restrict his movements. Sniffling slightly and wiping at his optics to keep the worst of his emotions at bay. Reluctantly he turned his attention inward for a klik, going over a brief systems check to observe his progress and the damage that had been wrought by his humiliating crash. What he saw prompted a dejected sigh from his vents when he noticed he had already been out for more than 16 joors. It was no wonder Prowl felt so lost and why his spark was in such pain; he clearly missed Bluestreak and his twin's pain was reflecting off of his own in a dizzying loop of shared emotions.

Whatever it was that had thrown him into stasis this time must have been one hell of a shock, not only for him but for his family as well. Yet, when he searched for the data he soon discovered that it was locked away behind a strict firewall. The code and structure of the firewall one that Prowl easily recognized as Ratchet's impeccable work.

So his Carrier was protecting him against witnessing, whatever it was that he had seen before, from witnessing it again?

Prowl sighed internally; over time the firewall would fade and the data would become readily available to him, but if it was bad enough for Ratchet to lock it away in fear of throwing his processors again when awoke. Then the tactician wasn't so sure he wanted to see the data again. Maybe he'd encrypt it himself and bury it deep in the far reaches of his 'never-viewed' storage data. It sounded like a plan bit first he needed to get to Bluestreak. Shifting again he was just about to stand when his movement was interrupted.

"Sit still Prowl, I'm coming." Ratchet's tired but stern voice broke through his inner musing and it immediately focused dimmed optics on the shuffling form of the red and white Medic. Ratchet bustled over to his berth side with probably a great many questions floating around in his processors, questions that Prowl wasn't so sure that he could or wanted to answer.

Prowl, however, made no protest when Ratchet's medical hard-line slid into the slot on the back of his wrist. Even though it was making the tactician shiver at the cold, professional brush of Ratchet's mind against his own and the mixed signals his mind and spark were receiving at the same time. This was what he hated the most about medical protocols, he could feel Ratchet balancing on the edge of his consciousness - looming over his processors as he ran an in-depth scan that tickled across his components. But it was so professional and cold that it made Prowl shudder at the strange sycophantic feeling that ran rampant across his systems, the feeling that it was so desperately wrong to feel around Ratchet. Prowl knew for a fact that his Carrier was always compassionate and gentle but connected to him with a medical hard-line cable - it felt revoltingly emotionless and 'illogical'. It immediately made Prowl want to submit to the clearly superior coding in every way conceivable.

~Hey now Prowl! None of that.~ Ratchet ordered and Prowl stopped squirming immediately as data flashed across his HUD. Mercifully a set of equations he could easily do to distract himself. ~I just barely managed pulled you out of a bad processor crash. Don't go glitching on me again.~ His Carrier continued bur Prowl didn't pay much attention to that perfectly modulated voice that demanded from him. If he did Prowl might have found himself afraid again and even now he was fidgeting. His emotional core perplexed because his Creator-Creation Union told him that Ratchet was gentle and caring, but the voice echoing through his processor was a powerful - _demanding_ - monotone that he never heard from his Carrier personally.

In fact, it did not belong to his Carrier Ratchet at all - it was the Medical Programming that did it.

Prowl gave another involuntary shudder and tried to block out the strange sensations rushing up and down his spinal struts. It wouldn't be the first time he'd felt like this about Ratchet's medical programming running against his systems, however, when the Medical Programming finally took over and eased the throbbing confusion and ache behind Prowl's optics - his tense shoulders relaxed as his confusion faded. The large packet of logical data he was given to sort through helped Prowl a lot in regaining control of himself.

"Oh Sweetspark. Just what was your memory flux to leave you like this?" Ratchet ventured softly, the hard-line disconnecting from Prowl's wrist easily and efficiently. He intimately knew the after affects that a processor crash would have on Prowl and his youngest now being so uncomfortable showed him just how upset the tactician was. When Ratchet had connected his medical hard-line and Prowl immediately started squirming uncomfortably it showed him enough of Prowl's mindset to know that it had been bad enough. Ratchet also noted that especially with the pain dampeners he had had to inject, where he usually only used it once for this type of glitch, he had been forced to use it twice now to help ease Prowl's pain. It was slightly worrying and disconcerting to Ratchet.

Lifting his servos up from where they rested in his own lap, Ratchet gently wiped away at the falling tears that had gathered around Prowl's optics. The Medic gently collected them on the tips of his thumbs in a display of intimate comfort and great concern. He hated seeing Prowl like this and it was spilling across their union easily, making Prowl's shoulders sink and his spark ache even more.

"It was one that I'd rather not think of again Carrier." Prowl answered, his voice so soft that Ratchet nearly missed the words completely. Prowl pushed himself to his pedes slowly, swaying uncertainly for a few astrosecond before he regained his motor functions under control. He also guessed that Ratchet's steadying servo helped in that sense as well.

"Why don't you tell me anything anymore Prowl?" Ratchet asked decidedly hurt that he was pushed away again. "It hurts me to see you like this too." Ratchet continued softly and promptly stilled when he felt Prowl place his servos on his shoulder plates. Ratchet relished in the contact; it had been eons since Prowl had approached him for any form of contact and now he was even initiating it first.

"For that I wish not to burden you beloved Carrier." Prowl gave a watery smile in answer and delicately pushed himself onto the tips of his pedes. Pressing a soft, loving, chaste kiss to Ratchet's gleaming silver chevron. It was both a promise and an apology. For an entire breem Prowl said nothing, he just laid his overly warm helm on his Carrier's shoulder and stayed where he was. Enjoying and absorbing the comfort that Ratchet gave him so easily just by being there. He didn't move when Ratchet's arms pulled him close for a gentle embrace, there was also no need to say anything. They understood that there were no words left to be said even when the air was charged with them...

"I need to go see Bluestreak." Prowl remarked softly after a long while, reluctant to let go of his Carrier just as Ratchet was reluctant to let go of him, but he did so anyways. Even when he had to force himself away from the embrace. "Go to Sire, Carrier. I'm sure he needs you more than me." Prowl noted with a wry smile, optics gleaming in unshed tears but his humour did not go unnoticed by the Medic.

Ratchet swatted at him playfully and Prowl just chuckled, unmoving when his optics flickered over the sleeping form of Jazz. The saboteur had taken the berth next to his own and Prowl gave a deep frown smile of remorse. The tactician regretted that he was going to be leaving Jazz by himself for a while, but this was also something he had to be done. He could ignore it no longer and he just hoped that Jazz would understand.

Ratchet seemed completely unwilling to let him go though, pulling him into another fierce embrace and parting his lip plates to admonish Prowl but Praxian just sighed softly at his Carrier and opened their bond fully.

_**::Please look after him for me while I'm gone. If Jazz wakes up looking for me, please tell him where I am.::**_ Prowl said, optics now dimmed and trained on the floor, in the corner of his vision he could see that Jazz slept on - not once disturbed by their talking. His pedes was shuffling uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his Carrier and for a moment Prowl felt like a little sparkling again, getting into trouble and was about to be punished for something. He was surprised however by a gentle kiss to his chevron that had Prowl looking up tentatively, expecting a rebuke but instead he got nothing but a small nod of acceptance and a push away from the warm embrace.

"Go before I change my mind." Ratchet remarked quite sternly and gave Prowl another little push towards the Medbay doors. The tactician didn't need to be told twice what to do and he obeyed his Carrier like he always did. Heading for the door but stopping in his tracks just before they swished open with little sound. He was frowning deeply and contemplatively as he looked back over his shoulder - straight at Ratchet when his doorwings sagged low on his back struts in sorrow.

"By the way Carrier Ratchet, whatever happened to my blue 49 Gamma building block?" In that question and those words he just gave the answer to Ratchet's question earlier, however before Ratchet could respond the tactician was out of the door and already disappearing down the hallway and onwards to his brother's room.

"Oh Prowl." Ratchet whispered brokenly and softly to himself. He knew _exactly_ what his youngest had been talking about when he had mentioned that building block and that specific memory was not one of the best to relive in a painful Memory Flux. It was no wonder that his beloved youngling was in such pain. But what he could he do now? Nothing. That's what. Prowl had Jazz for comfort now and Bluestreak for his necessity.

Sitting on the edge of the berth that Prowl had just vacated, Ratchet hung his helm in his servos with despair. His spark already desperately calling out to his bondmate as his optics rested on the recharging form of Jazz. If only he could be lost in his dreams as the saboteur then he too wouldn't have to feel the pain of what it was that Prowl had just told him. It was not a nice feeling when a Carrier realized that he couldn't do anything for his youngling anymore to ease the suffering and sooth the pain.

Even though it had taken Ratchet two joors to convince Jazz to get some rest, he himself needed it desperately. He had just been about to leave when Prowl had woken up and he was glad he had been there. He didn't want others to see Prowl when he just awoke from a processor crash. It wouldn't be fair to both of them, being so thinly stretched and emotionally exhausted.

_**::You okay Ratch? Why don't you come to the berth? I've already lit the ion fire.::**_ Wheeljack's voice suddenly overwhelmed his spark with light hearted happiness and comfort and Ratchet smiled softly, his sweet Wheeljack was already picking up on his sorrow. Those few words were easy to persuade him to leave. His own anticipation was already building, Wheeljack could be such a sweet romantic when he wanted to be and Ratchet just loved being the centre of that gentle attention.

The Medic stood from where he was seated and pinged Jazz with a message that would activate when the saboteur woke up from his recharge. At least now Jazz would know where both he and Prowl had gone, the Spec Ops director was most likely going to be finding Prowl first so he gave him Bluestreak's quarter's location just in case he didn't know where it was. His cherry red servo briefly rested on Jazz's black fore helm in an intimate touch before he pulled away and left. The Medbay doors closing, but not locking behind him, as the last of the lights flickered off and Ratchet deactivated his main comm. line, his emergency comm. staying active just in case he was needed though.

0oooo00oooo0

Bluestreak was drifting in and out of consciousness, his spark overly heavy and his armoured frame excessively tired. Prowl had given him quite a scare earlier that orn. The comfortable couch in his quarters however, were providing a nice place - that wasn't so lonely and cold - where he could pursue some good reading material until recharge took him away from his internal misery. But so far, his peaceful drop from reality was still eluding him completely. There was a perpetual nervousness that didn't sit right with his roiling fuel tanks.

Besides that little revelation, everything else felt vacant and lost to Bluestreak. If it was not the emptiness he felt creeping upon his circuits, everything, except the couch where he and Prowl usually ended up in one of their 'twinly trysts', was a reminder of his and Prowl's shared pain. The mere thought of Prowl sent the young gunner's thoughts reeling with many revelations about his twin.

After more than five stellar cycles with the Praxian Lord's family Bluestreak had learned a lot about them and he was still learning. He had been afraid that Prowl would never accept him back after what Ratchet had told him had happened in Kaon, but Blue was so happy - for reasons he did not truly understand then, when Prowl had come to him two orns after Ratchet's visit. That was the first and only time that Bluestreak had ever felt so guilty about walking out on a mech when they were telling him something important. Merely seeing Prowl again had let him know he was somewhat forgiven for the pain he had caused not one of them - but the both of them.

That specific orn when he had muttered an apology and disappeared into the night, he had been in such pain himself that he thought he was going to die before the orn was up. But when Prowl returned for him, distinguished in his beautiful black and white travelling cloak - he had never been more happy to see the noble he thought had tried to deceive him into a false hope.

To say Bluestreak had been surprised when their very short conversation was abruptly stopped when Prowl had firmly pushed him up against a wall, was an understatement. He had understood now why Prowl had done it. The enticing touch of their spark chambers scraping together as their equally sized frames fit together so perfectly had eventually made Bluestreak reconsider if what Prowl had been saying was true. That large hole of emptiness in his spark, that he could never understand, had been partially filled with such close contact for such a short period of time. He had known then that it was true that they were twins because no other mech had ever made him feel safe and loved as much as Prowl had done in only that one moment.

_'Enough playing, Bluestreak' _Prowl had whispered directly into his audial receiver with such innocent sensuality that it made the older twin freeze in his struggling and submit to the sensations that was filling his entire being._ 'You can feel it too can't you?'_ The memory replayed vividly in front of his optics, so much so that the merchant turned gunner offlined his optics to recapture that single moment in time and relive the intensity of their first encounter. Their very first bodily contact after stellar cycle of forced separation...

It had been so deliciously _sweet_ that Blue almost sought it out every chance that he could get. Just so that he could feel that relief and acceptance again...

_'The ache, the _knowing_ that there is something missing, _something_ since you were old enough to realize what hurt was_.' Prowl's voice had continued in a lilting tone that was filled with such grief that Bluestreak had immediately wound his arms around his brother and brought them closer together. '_I feel it too. Perhaps _more_ so because... b-b-because I knew you were the part of me that I was missing.'_ Those eternally beautified tears were not something Bluestreak had ever forgotten, it swayed him and he had given. Accepting that all that he had known was a precariously twisted lie that tore him apart from the inside and rested solely in his spark.

And in turn, he had come to love his family all just as they had come to love_ him_ for who he was. Ratchet, his gentle but temperamental Carrier had been a source of many nightly orn comforts that even Prowl didn't know about. The care he found in Ratchet had been something Bluestreak had never had before and now that it was so freely given, he allowed himself to revel in the sensations of being _wanted_. Wheeljack, his joyful, optimistic and happy Sire had been great amusement . It seemed that Bluestreak had inherited his Sire's inherent clumsiness too but Blue will never forget that he too played a role in easing his greatest doubts. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, his older siblings who often pulled him into more trouble that they were worth had been great entertainment when things got a bit too much for even him to handle and then finally there had been his other half, Prowl. The lonely tactician that was so shy around him, that their first encounters were sometimes uncomfortable and strained.

The gentle mech that Bluestreak had come to love with his entire spark. His twin Prowl; who was so much like their Carrier and shared so much of the same trauma as him. He who was also so much more vulnerable than he had first let on. Bluestreak's spark gave a little pang of regret, pain assaulting his processor and settling deep into his circuits. He had done Prowl wrong so many a time, that he had nearly been the reason that Prowl had completely broken in Kaon. Later on though ,when Prowl had told him what had happened when he had left there was so much guilt in his spark that Bluestreak felt as if he was suffering every minute pain with his brother. He _still_ struggled with it ornly, blamed himself incessantly even when Prowl merely waved it aside and always whispered 'There's nothing to forgive Blue and I will always love you.', so tenderly that it made his spark melt.

Such sentiments had become his entire life and it had been the start of their 'twinly trysts' as Sunny and Sides had called it.

It was something that Blue realized that he needed more than they were given these last few vorns. what he wouldn't give to just hold Prowl now and offer him an outlet for his sorrow and pain? His family rarely realized this but he was sometimes just as vulnerable as Prowl. Sometimes even more so...

The grey and black Praxian now bit his bottom lip plate, trying to stave off the tears that he felt prickling at his optics. Why did it hurt so much to think of things like this? He hated it, hated it as much as his life in Kaon. His life hadn't been all pretty image captures and rose crystals either, just like Prowl - Blue had grown up thinking he was a dejected being of society and that his true family had never wanted him. Growing up in Kaon, a place that was not as friendly and understanding as Praxus, had ingrained into himself preservation protocols that not even Prowl processed.

He had no relatives to offer him comfort from the pain, and only empty stellar cycles of pain before he found out that he had been a stolen childe...

Almost a slave per say of a vengeful, scientific mech that the Praxian CMO had gotten kicked off the Academic Board of Iacon. Disgraced by the Prime and then exiled to live in eternal darkness. For what _purpose_ he had been taken that orn no mech really knew but the one who had taken him. Bluestreak had only caught glimpses of conversation between the Enforcers when the evil scientist's lair had been raided and he had been taken away. He was apparently, sickeningly, being groomed for a sadistic experiment of how to turn a high class mech with standard circuits and processors into a lowly Courtesan for the upper echelons of Society. That was a fate he had also just narrowly escaped.

Bluestreak truthfully didn't remember much from that time of his life, too many data corruptions and so much darkness that memories of such a time was better left buried and dead... He did however remember the kindly old couple that had adopted him from the Youngling Care Centre before he could get lost in the vast system of abandoned younglings, war orphans and runaways from abusive homes. They had kindly raised him as their own and loved him in a way that Blue would never forget, they had renamed him Impel Coil but Bluestreak had always known that his designation was not that. He would always remember the kindly voice of his lost Carrier calling him 'his beautiful Bluestreak'. And after that a humble merchant he had become and always believed he was never destined for bigger things, he was destined to feel left out and only a part of what he could be. That was _until_ Prowl had come.

Desperately biting back his need for reassurance that was clawing painfully at his spark, Bluestreak made himself comfortable on his _lonely_ couch and wondered if Prowl was alright now. He_ knew_ that he needed to see Prowl, needed to feel his twin's plating against his just so that Bluestreak could escape the surreal feeling that had settled around his spark. He didn't know anymore where he stood with Prowl in his brother's new found sparkmate and if he should ask Prowl for that reassurance that he was still loved. The gunner held himself back deliberately though, too afraid to ask for anything should his happy life be razed to vapour in front of his very optics and disappear forever by the cruelty of Unicron...

Knocking? Bluestreak frowned and tilted his helm to the side slightly, listening intently - waiting for the that sound to resound through his quarters again.

Knock... Knock.

Knocking...? That was strange and unusual, he briefly wondered just who it could be that wanted to visit him. He wasn't expecting anyone, unless he had forgotten of an appointment? Hastily placing his datapad on the low table, Bluestreak rapidly wiped away the evidence of his sorrow from his optics and stood on his pedes shakily. Uncertain and suddenly weary of the world outside of his musings.

Knock, knock, knock.

It came again and Bluestreak parted his lip plates to shout his approach but the knocking stopped. His spark was beating frantically in his spark chamber when an invasive electronic chime sounded through his quarters instead. Had someone just hacked his door? Who would invade his privac―.

Door-Swish. Bluestreak was just about to reach for his rifle when his servos stilled and fell limply at his sides.

The distinctive sound of pattering pedesteps, the subtle melody of distressed, nervous fluttering doorwings had Bluestreak's intakes hitching rather painfully. There was only _one_ mech with doorwings besides himself on the Ark. His spark now aflutter with anticipation and joy, Bluestreak rushed towards the door as fast as his shaky pedes could carry him. Relief squeezing a few stray coolant drops from his optics and staining his faceplates in joy and true beaming happiness.

The door swished again and this time a click resounded through the room as the lock reengaged, data scrambled and encrypted before the silence was settled heavily across Bluestreak's spark.

"Blue? Bluestreak? Are you still awa―?." A gentle, uncertain voice called out to him but his beloved twin never got to finish his sentence as Bluestreak flew from where he was standing, rather stunned, and immediately engulfed Prowl in a fierce, welcoming embrace. Two sets of doorwings tensing at the contact before they gave a simultaneous flutter of relief. Both he and Prowl were distinctly aware of the silence between them, it was beginning to crack with emotions and their intimate bond flared wide.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry. S-so very sorry." Prowl wailed suddenly, he couldn't keep himself together anymore and he sagged into Bluestreak's embrace. He had come to offer Bluestreak comfort and reassurance when he had felt his brother's pain and anxiety but he ended up being offered comfort in return - it just wasn't fair that Blue could do so much for him but he could hardly ever do anything that mattered to his beloved twin. For that alone, Prowl's spark was in desperate pain now and even though their spark ache was now shared it was hardly halved. It was only amplified twice, allowing their bond to split wide open caused twice the amount of grief and strengthen their sparks calling out for completion. Already searching for that centre of being where only _they_ existed in each other's worlds. True, they had lovers, obligations, duties, family and many other things that they didn't share but in that moment they wanted nothing more than to melt into each other and forget the pain that they had been forced to endure.

Images, emotions, impressions, words of apology and acceptance danced around them like the dreams of dead mechs scattered to the winds and the four distant corners of the Universe. _Everything_ was now in the open, the pain, the darkness, the sorrow, the fraught _need_ and most of all the acceptance of _love_. A love so deep that was often shared by the slip spark twins of Primus' creation. Prowl clung to Bluestreak's frame, his words of apology and hastily explained murmurs of his emotions - for once taking on Bluestreak's famous pattern - seemed never ending, just as his frame never ceased in its uncontained shivers. Whether they be of delight or fear, neither of them knew. When Bluestreak lowered their entwined forms to the floor, careful with his trembling doorwings against the harsh carpet, the grey and black Praxian also settled next to Prowl. Their spark chambers touched lightly in a show of understanding for the need for close contact as both of them tried to melt into the other's plating.

They were pressed so closely together, frames giving off excessive heat and a desire for more. Prowl's sombre faceplates were mere inches apart from Bluestreak's uncharacteristic reflected emotions. Their lip plates nearly touching intimately as their olfactory sensors touched tenderly, their soft pants of unstable intakes tickling across sensitive plating and spreading a warmth through their sparks that hadn't been there in a while. The intimate position did not go unnoticed by either of them and Prowl, out of his usual shy character, consented to the unspoken question by dipping his helm down in acceptance - their lip plates brushing against each other briefly but the after taste of it left something to be desired.

Needing to feel something other than the raw ache where his brother's presence usually filled him, Prowl pressed closer to Bluestreak's plating - slipping a thigh between Blue's pedes so that his brother's pede would rest over his thighs. The subtle movement did not deter the desire, it only flared like the Ion fire in the Creators' quarters that they knew so well. It also not so subtly brought their interface panels together in a heady touch of arousal. Not only Prowl's desire, but Bluestreak's as well. The air was now charging with both unfathomable emotions and intermittent lust...

"Prowl, please don't." Bluestreak moaned slightly, his senses were leaving him fast and he didn't want Prowl to do something he'd regret later. His protestations were stilled by deft fingers tugging at his spark chamber's catch release, he understood the request - they needed to merge - but Bluestreak was being stubborn and he just couldn't take advantage of Prowl's confusion and spark ache like that. A gentle chaste kiss to his lip plates that suddenly turned sensual and much more intimate had Bluestreak's plating gave a shudder at his twin's new found boldness. Knowing, tender fingers now explored the expanse of his doorwings - knowing exactly what to do to make him lose all of his inhibitions. Both of them keened when it was a doubled sensation, their sparkbond still wide open and broadcasting emotions and sensations.

_**::Prowl! Stop! Please don't do something you're going to regret with Jazz.::**_ Bluestreak forced through their still open bond since his brother had his mouth occupied elsewhere, not that the older twin minded all that much. He even frowned in disappointment when Prowl pulled away; licked his lip plates sensually - he was probably not even aware that he was doing it - and have him a watery, sad, smile. Prowl's hint of innocence that had never faded, was still lingering brightly in those beautiful blue optics. Those previously _overflowing_ optics were now slightly playful and wanting and Bluestreak sighed.

'Here we go again,' He thought to himself. It was the same desperately pained look that Prowl gave him when there was nothing helping to still the pain in his brother's erratic spark. So he overrode the pain with lust and hoped to forget for a few moments what it was that was hurting him so deeply. Bluestreak carefully lifted a servo and traced his brother's cheek plate lovingly. Feeling the wetness of the blue coolant that had been shed earlier and was still being shed. Damn it, his brother was beautiful like this. All broken but so innocently wanting comfort...

_**::Jazz wants us together, Blue, he'd never forbid me from doing this.::**_ Prowl promised softly and how could Blue ignore that?

_**::He told me he didn't want to break apart what we have. He **__**knows**__** what we need and he promised not to be jealous.::**_ The tactician, now slightly calmer, did not flinch when their positions were easily reversed. Too easily, he thought to himself but pushed it aside as other matters topped his protocol list. Bluestreak was now settling himself between Prowl's - slightly bent at the knee struts - pedes and pressed him firmly back onto the carpeted floor. His doorwings straining against the carpet but Prowl couldn't find it in him to protest. The heat coming off both of their frames, mingled as EM fields flared and meshed together sensually, Prowl knew that Bluestreak was seeking any form of deception from him but there was none to be found and when he seemed satisfied by the answer, their bond flared with a brief flash of understanding. Bluestreak was in turn rewarded with a brief flash of a memory he himself seemed to have forgotten but Prowl hadn't. Bit by bit his resisting resolve crumbled under the weight of reality.

_'Ya know, Blue.'_ The brief memory flux purred between them, their chest armour scraping together in anticipation._ 'Had Ah known ya woul' be that' affected by our playin' yesterorn Ah woul' 'ave invited ya te join us. Do ya think ya wan' te join us next time though?'_ Their desire was capturing their attention so wholly that it was impossible to separate their thoughts until every desire had been exchanged and every firewall had fallen under duress. They delved deep into their bond, deeper than they had ever been before. Searching memories, living them together and taking comfort in the simplest of pleasures that it brought them. They were waiting - like playing a youngling game - biding their time until one of them broke shattered the lust and took things to the next lever of ultimate bliss...

Even when the door swished open not far away from where they had fallen, they did not notice. Nor did they notice the entrance of another mech, this one having expertly hacked a locked door without alerting the two inside of what he was doing. A very familiar blue visor were trained upon their intimate embrace with surprise but no amount of hidden _lust_ and _pure, feral, want_. A lop sided grin of satisfaction and desire curling at his lip plates as he leaned back against the closed door and folded his arms across his chest armour, lust shuddering through his circuits as he watched and waited until they noticed his presence.

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz stirred lightly from recharge, his haunting memory fluxes following him back to the land of the living and he gave an involuntary shudder. He kept his visor completely dark and his systems running perpetually slow as to fool others that he was still in recharge. He listened carefully to the silence that surrounded him, it must have been what had awoken him. There was no beep of the machines, no subtle movements that Ratchet usually made in his Medbay and no sense of Prowl's spark pulse. The saboteur hated silences, because silences such as these meant there was always the calm before the storm...

The immediate shock of what he realized, caused Jazz to jerk in fright. His recharge horrors overlapping with his wakened state and cognitive abilities, it had the Spec Ops Director wondering if he was in an interrogation room and had passed out from torture and was slowly awaiting his execution... Had all his happiness just been a mere dream of a doomed spark inside a dream?

It was near enough into throwing his systems into a panic so Jazz struggled with his visor's power systems, crying out his small triumph as it dimmed online - searching his location, looking for any recognizable heat signatures and any sign of another spark presence close by. It was often that Jazz awoke like this, his intimate assassination programming not a good help to his logical centres when awaking from a particular bad memory flux. It was a curse he just had to live with.

Taking a deep vent to calm his terror and traumatic stress, the saboteur offlined his visor and onlined it again to make sure that he wasn't dreaming this up. The Medbay may have been silent but there was clear evidence that life had been here no more than a breem ago. The latent heat of Prowl was still imprinted on the berth next to his and his presence wasn't that dampened to the saboteur's immense sensor array. The mech really couldn't have been gone that long and Ratchet's spark signature was still strong in the Medbay, it lingered by his side and even though it was gone Jazz knew he wasn't having a horrible night terror. Or that his reality had only been a fluke. It happened sometimes, his programming often made him paranoid enough to think (if only for a few nanokliks) that his last few orns of joy had been a hacker's skill in placing him in stasis whilst searching his systems and gaining all his secrets...

Jazz shook his helm in exasperation, scanning intimate systems and vast memory cores. There was no trace of another mech's system integrated with his except for Prowl's. Venting a sigh of great relief Jazz knew that his panic was unfounded and he could relax. Turning his attention inward to assess where that damn annoying buzzing sound was coming from, Jazz ran a normal system's check and it didn't take long until a message popped up on his HUD screen. It was literally screaming for his attention and Jazz (not for the first time) wondered just how he had missed something so glaringly obvious in his state.

**Internal Alert Message - Sender: **_**LP R 33494 651 *223**_

**Open or Delete?**

Jazz stilled and quietly pushed himself upright at the bright display on his visor's HUD, Ratchet had left him a message. How in Primus' good name had Jazz missed it again? Quickly selecting the Open option, Jazz scanned the message as a smile tugged at his lip plates.

'If you are looking for Prowl Jazz, he woke up about a breem ago. He's gone to find Bluestreak and I trust you know where he is.' The message ping replayed the message and Jazz quickly read the rest. 'I've attached the coordinates to his quarters if you don't know where they are and if you're looking for me I'm with 'Jack. Emergency comm.'s open. Don't bother me though or I'll do something you'll regret. Signed Ratchet.' Jazz chuckled at the last few words. That was definitely Ratchet, giving enough information to satisfy his own fears and subtly tell him that if there was a real emergency then he was still reachable.

Although Jazz couldn't lie, he felt a bit hurt that Prowl had wandered off without him. But then again, maybe he really needed to see Bluestreak. The saboteur gave a decidedly indifferent shrug and pulled himself bodily from the berth where he had fallen into recharge. Momentarily struggling with the sudden heaviness that had settled across his plating, he however managed to rise to his pedes - if not a bit groggily from his unfinished recharge. Stifling a yawn, Jazz headed towards Bluestreak's quarters. Memorizing the location as he found his way through the intricate halls of the _Ark_.

It was an easy route, easily committed to his databanks and the room itself had a door that was easier hacked than it was locked. The saboteur gave a subtle smirk, and using his considerable skill that he had picked up over his long life as a spy and internal saboteur the door clicked open before it swished to the side. The Spec Ops mech had soon bypassed all security systems and alerts, and to antagonize Red Alert - he lifted his helm and sent a wink at the camera that was trained on him. Red was watching, he was _always_ watching.

He had to greet old Red Alert somehow that didn't send him into a dead panic or so Jazz thought, a little teasing was never a bad things. Jazz hastily entered the room, only to freeze in his tracks - by the door frame - for a second time that orn. He shook himself from his daze and stepped forward slightly, the door closing behind him silently. The more he observed the more Jazz had to step back to lean against the closed door, his systems were nearly non-functional with his surprise and quiet delight. For the second time the orn, Jazz felt if his own systems would be sent into a crash at the unexpected.

Prowl and Bluestreak couldn't have been a few astrometres away from his pedes, both doorwinged mechs entwined intimately and quite happily - optics half dimmed as their helms rested together - fore helm to fore helm in quiet familiarity. Tender lip plates mere astroinches apart and hovering, waiting for a kiss. Jazz was disappointed to note that he couldn't establish if they were connected via hard-line. But what the Spec Ops mech did notice was their straining movements, near silent sounds of delight and duel pleasure. It did not take a service drone to see what it was that was conspiring between them. To the intent blue visor, the delicate blue arcs of a building overcharge was noticeably obvious and set the saboteur's own interfacin protocols alight with want.

Jazz hummed softly, Bluestreak was clearly the bolder in this situation. Prowl, the delicately submissive of the two twins and obviously the second born, was straining his pleasure. Back arched with those doorwings scraping rather painfully against the floor. Jazz wanted to wince at the painful action but held back when he noticed the calm approach to the situation that Bluestreak was taking, Jazz amiably admired his obvious skill in handling his brother. Prowl was such a delicate mech, a fragile spark that was easily affected by undue words and responded even more to comfort when in was truly intended.

Jazz knew this because Prowl always sought him out after good interface to cuddle and steal always his warmth. With his twin between his pedes, Jazz felt as if one of his richest and most desired fantasies was coming to life. Even though his visor was aware of every detail, their interface panels still closed - he could clearly smell the heady the lust in the air. Not that he minded much, even though he was slightly jealous, Jazz was clearly enjoying his vantage point from where he was standing.

Seeing his beloved Prowl in such an intimate position with another mech though, made Jazz's jealousy flare. He wanted to claim Prowl all over again, the brilliant tactician was his and only his. Yes, Jazz might allow Prowl his time with his brother but only because it was his brother and no one else. Jazz knew a little about split spark twins, they were essentially one spark in two bodies - had a constant need to spark merge every few vorns and their interface gratification was most likely supplied most of the time. It was not so rare to be able to see twins like this, but Jazz couldn't help but feel a little left out. Slightly pouting to himself and being the subtle saboteur that he was - Jazz shuffled forward. His pedes silent just as invisible as his presence, whether they had seen him or not - they still showed no amount of recognition that his presence would normally have provoked.

It made this a little easier, he guessed.

"Prowler?" Jazz sing songed softly where he knelt beside his lover's pleasure writhing frame, his hips now pressing against the wall as he sat directly behind Prowl. He smiled seductively when those blue optics snapped open with quiet fright and guilty pleasure but Jazz merely smiled. Lifting his beloved's helm into his lap as he cooed softly and stroked the tactician's helm in a comforting manner.

"J-Jazz?" The saboteur smiled and leaned forward slightly. He loved it when Prowl stuttered so lovingly in his surprise.

"Havin' fun all by yerself, Prowl?" Jazz purred deeply, his melodic voice dipping to just the right pitch to make his lover shudder beneath him. "'Urts a bit ya know." Jazz pointed out in mock anger. His visor intently trained on both Bluestreak and Prowl, at this vantage point they were even more beautiful and Jazz saved the image of them to memory. Maybe he'd ask Sunny to do him a drawing of them together like this. And the subtlety of being able to rub Prowl's chevron teasingly whilst watching Bluestreak drive his twin's pleasure higher and higher was something that Jazz enjoyed immensely. But he saved his apparent desire for when he and Prowl were alone.

"Ah'll le' Blue hav' his way with ya, " Jazz promised, his clawed fingers now finding purchase on Prowl's shoulder plates as he squeezed gently. The saboteur leant forward, lip plates now resting against Prowl's audial as he teased him. "But Prowlie, Ah'm gonna have te punish ya fer leaving' me out o' this. Ah was never a good candidate fer jealousy." At Prowl's delicious shudder of delight, Jazz smiled and focused his visor on Bluestreak. Those optics were trained on him in question and Jazz smiled, giving him permission to continue whilst he continued to drive Prowl insane with tactile touch and deliberate whispers of just what he would do to his beloved bondmate.

A lazy swipe of his knowing claw like fingers, just so delicately across the expanse of those trapped doorwings, had his Prowl arching - pushing at his twin - to get more into Jazz's searching servos. The saboteur gave a secret little smirk, it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be to override his interfacin protocols until he reached his quarters but he would do it. Even watching Prowl like this from a different angel than he was used to was indeed a rare sight, one he would not forget nor file away carelessly.

Jazz could only guess that their pleasure was being driven by both of them delving through their bond and seeking out sensations and memories to provoke such reactions. A very clever use of a bond that Jazz would not easily thrust aside, Prowl would he his in every way conceivable and having been given permission to finnish their bond - Jazz knew it would not be more than two orns before they were permanently bonded. Blast every other mech that didn't agree with them or disagreed with his choice of partner. Prowl was his sparkmate and nothing would ever change that.

Jazz was promptly dragged from his thoughts when he felt Prowl's frame tremble beneath his fingers. The spark chamber hatch he had just been fingering apparently a very sensitive place on the Praxian's frame. When Prowl pushed himself onto his elbow struts, thrown back helm now touching Jazz's spark chamber the saboteur shuffled forward and allowed their bodies to come into more full contact. Prowl's doorwings scraping against his chest armour pleasantly as Jazz helped keep Prowl steady when he pronounced his need for overload by a loud keen. He even entwined their fingers intimately and when Prowl's helm pressed more firmly into his own, Jazz offlined his visor. Lowering his helm to capture gentle lips within his own and leisurely explore Prowl's mouth component to his true content.

"Let go." Jazz whispered softly, his servo discreetly slipping lower and lower on Prowl's plating until he rested his clawed fingers on his inner thigh plates, a thumb brushing against a closed interface panel that was hot to the touch and sent little shocks of want through his systems.

0oooo00oooo0

Prowl's helm made a hollow thud against the wall, an echo of his guilty pleasure building in his circuits again. The tactician wasn't complaining at all, he confessed quietly to himself that he had wanted to be discovered by Jazz. Wanted to be seen doing such things with his twin, wanted to coveted by his beloved and claimed all over again. He didn't want to hide things from Jazz anymore - it hurt too much and he would see it all anyways. It wouldn't be long now until they bonded and Prowl really couldn't wait anymore, he could feel Jazz so close to him, pressing up against him and just out of servo's reach. That beautiful visor was right in front of him - a mere astroinches apart from his lip plates but still so out of reach of his spark's encompassing love that it was slightly disconcerting.

Prowl made a small whimper, fingers scraping against his palm in hopes that the pain in his spark would fade. It was a hollow wish and Prowl knew it but being with Blue had helped a bit in that aspect, it was now up to his beloved to do the rest and for Prowl to truly surrender himself to Jazz. He could the feel the anticipation build and the more Jazz stayed silent, pinning him to the wall of the saboteur's quarters, the more Prowl felt his circuits heat in anticipation.

Prowl knew that this was a punishment for straying away from Jazz side when he should have told him where he was going but even Prowl found the teasing tension a bit too much. They were already linked through their hard-line and Jazz wasn't giving him pleasure - he was just hovering on the edge of his consciousness and driving his systems insane with small bursts of data. Prowl arched into the touch slightly, he knew he would never be satisfied with only such a gentle connection to Jazz. He needed something _much_ more substantial and erotic.

"Prowler," Jazz's voice was burning with possessive jealousy and Prowl shuddered against the wall, another brush of pleasure heating across his systems as Jazz took full control of him. His doorwings scraped painfully against the harsh wall, it was difficult to try and pay attention to what it was that Jazz was saying to him but whatever he was trying wasn't working. The scent of a burning Ion fire lingered in the distance, heady and reminiscent of a time Prowl never dared to forget. He loved the smell and the large hearth was indeed lighted with purple flames, the rest of the rooms were bathed in so little light that the complete darkness was almost frightening to Prowl but Jazz managed to keep his processors away from the darkened room.

"Ah don't mind the once in a while spark merge with Blue, but ya 're going ta be bonded ta meh soon." Jazz continued his soliloquy calmly, servos pressed on each side of Prowl's helm and keeping him trapped against the wall with a limited range of movement. The low lighting forced Prowl to adjust his optics to take in his beloved's handsome features but that visor flashed dangerously and warningly.

"Keep 'em dimmed Prowler." That seductive voice demanded and Prowl obeyed, the only thing his optics were now able to see was the blue visor and fiercely handsome features of his beloved Jazz. Nothing else was visible except the faint outline of their bodies in the Ion fire and the eating darkness that spread through the room like a fire through the science sector of Iacon.

"Ah want te know every time 'fore ya go off to yer brother fer somethin' so intimate, Prowler. Ya see Swee'spark," Jazz emphasised his point by gently tracing Prowl's cheek seam lovingly. "Ah'm a possessive mech by nature. 'Nd Ah proclaim as _mah_ Prowl, mah beloved and my bondmate. No twin, no mech or femme will take ya from meh unless they pry ya from mah dead servos." Jazz purred deeply and threateningly and it was a subtle warning for the future, Prowl recognized it for what it was and could only nod dazedly. His fingers dug painfully into his own thigh plating to ground his thoughts that were running away from him. Prowl was flustered with embarrassment, his interface panel was itching for the touch of Jazz and the saboteur knew it too. There was no way he could not know, could not know that he needed to feel his beloved in him - around him - claiming him for himself...

The igniting arousal between the two of them, had the desperate want that Prowl could feel emanating from Jazz make a heady mixture of arousal and pure, possessive jealousy. Even in his pleasured haze, Prowl observed his future bondmate; he was barely able to form a coherent sentence or even think of anything _besides_ the burn in his circuits and his desperate want to be filled and be taken so completely that he only remembered Jazz's designation. A shiver raced up his plating and rushed through his circuits - leaving the tactician yearning for more than being just pressed against the wall and trapped by a heated frame and a scorching fire of unadulterated yearning.

Prowl truly hadn't meant for his visit to his brother to turn out the way that it did, but now that it had and Jazz had him pinned to a wall - whispering in his audial and driving him insane with lust was something he didn't mind experiencing every orn. He was sure that his beloved could drive him to overload by merely murmuring to him in that seductive voice that made Prowl's processors reel and his valve clench already painfully empty and in need to be filled. What else could Prowl do but hope to sway Jazz into his web of desire? And yet the saboteur was holding up remarkably well even when they were already connected to a hard-line interface.

The young Praxian knew that he wasn't completely over his memory flux earlier and the pain that had settled across his spark and processors. He truly believed that Jazz was the only one that would be able to stop the ache now that Blue had failed to do so. The only obstacle in Prowl's path was that: how did one ask for such blatant release of emotional turmoil rather than facing it and dealing with it?

Prowl tried his best to convey his yearning for touch and for the pain in his spark to fade and when he felt his intakes hitched painfully, he knew he was going to be lost in a world where pleasure was granted but his pain was still there. Always _would_ be there, separation from a split park twin at such a young age had scarred his spark and Prowl knew that the pain would never truly fade but there were moments when it felt better. Like now when he felt sly fingers trace over his overheated interface panel, and at the command from Jazz:

"Open for me," Prowl opened it without any reservations. Anything for a bit of momentarily relief from his spinning thoughts. Thoughts that were hidden behind his emotional core programming and where Jazz couldn't reach them, even if they were connected as they were now. Prowl didn't know if it should be a relief or a great worry.

"J-Jaaazzz! Please!" Prowl pleaded, feeling thoroughly mollified by his lover's touches and the desperate need that his love had been building in his circuits for over three breems was eating away at his control. That was for how long they were tangled against the wall, fingers teasing and touching but never giving him more than little tastes of the pleasures that was waiting for him in his surrender. Prowl saw no other options, he would surrender...

One claw like finger slid into his valve and Prowl lost all train of his thought, his spark momentarily quiet after the pain had been reawakened by a memory flux from his sparkling vorns. The slick feeling of the easy slide of Jazz's finger told the tactician that his valve was most likely already dripping with his need, staining his lover's clawed servos in a tinge of blue and filled the atmosphere with the heady smell of his deepest arousal.

"Tell mech Prowler, did ya want te be found?" Jazz purred and Prowl could only nod helplessly, helm clanging against the solid metal wall as a groan escaped his tired vocalizer. He felt the grin that Jazz gave as the saboteur leaned into his neck components, sharp denta tugging and biting at sensitive wires and cables that left Prowl arching into his touch despite still being pressed against the wall. It was almost as if he was magnetized there by external influences, he still couldn't move very well but his processors were clear and his motor functions still working perfectly fine - so why was he still stuck to the wall with limited range in his movement.

The sharper the bites became the more Prowl keened out to his lover.

"Ah see, well we're gonna hav' ta work on explorin' all these lit'le fantasies ya have." Jazz whispered seductively, his melodic tone one of arousal and fighting calm. "Then, we're gonna work through all _mine_." The promise was like liquid fire between them and Jazz was surprised when Prowl's valve clenched around his slow pleasuring finger.

Chuckling at the tactician's bodily reaction to his words, Jazz growled in retaliation and slipped in a second finger - enjoying the whine that Prowl let out was audial splitting. Jazz understood the whine, it told him exactly where he was standing in their position and the hard-line connection between them was throbbing with desire and need from the both of them. It was a flood of emotions, it was a promise that they both wanted more than anything and the sensation of rivulets of lubricant snaking down his hand and wrist components was making Prowl all the more desirable to Jazz.

Pinching a trapped doorwing between his forefinger and thumb, Jazz covered his beloved's mouth with his own. It was a flush of their stimulation, a rush of excitement and anticipation. It was heady and made everything that much more intense when Jazz retracted his fingers. His general nature for teasing fading fast with the heat that was crawling over his plating and staining his entire spark. There was no more desiring what he wanted, no more desiring what they both _wanted_. It was time to make sure it _happened_.

There was a palpable electricity between them now and Jazz's mastery of his magnetic field nearly shifted and gave Prowl his movement back but not yet, they had to wait just a little longer. Building all this anticipation would produce a good outcome when he finally did slide his spike into Prowl, a delicious thought that was as distracting as those slow grinding hips against his own were. Absentmindedly Jazz traced the seals to Prowl's spark chamber, falling instead into his thoughts as he wondered just when Prowl would be ready to allow those bonds with his family to sna―.

"T-t-th-ree orns." Came the blessed reply and Jazz was momentarily stunned, confused and wondering if his sensory horn had malfunctioned for a klik.

"Huh?" He murmured eloquently and Prowl smiled at him, and in the darkness of the room with only the subtle light of the purple Ion fire to light his beloved's pleasure twisted features, Jazz soon found himself on the receiving end of a smouldering kiss. Glossa twining in a dance for dominance and for once Jazz surrendered, awarding his loved Prowler the win of this round and the win of his spark. There was a slight click as his interfacing panel slid back and he lost his careful, teasing control.

Prowl had known what would break him...

"I-I said t-three o-orns J-Jazz!" Prowl forced between his clenched denta, neck cables straining at the new assault of pleasure that erupted through his systems. The hard-line now long forgotten to the real feeling of Jazz's spike sliding into his valve at a leisure pace. He moaned deeply, this time it was definitely not going to take him a long time until his pleasure spiked and he passed out from exertion and bliss.

"Three orns to what Prowl?" Jazz persisted, keeping himself still and waiting for his answer. He had to know that he had heard right for his spark was beating wildly in his spark chamber and happily taking the answer for what it was.

"U-until we b-bond, give me three orns to...oh my..." Prowl drifted off with a loud profanity, back struts arching and doorwings struggling against another force that kept him back, to try and quiver at the pleasure that was racing through his systems. Jazz's first thrust deep into his valve had the tactician biting his bottom lip plate painfully, he whined and keened his pleasure - trying to convey just what it was that he was experiencing. It was already chasing through his unstable systems, crackling overload was just mere moments away and still Jazz toyed with him. But when the mysterious binding force that had been holding to the wall disappeared, Prowl took advantage of it in full. There was nothing more than what he wanted to do and he did it was a satisfied gasp and uncertain pleasure.

Arms gently winding around Jazz's neck cables to bring his lover closer to him, one thigh sliding up and against Jazz's hip to balance himself better. The affect also pushing Jazz deeper into him. The sensations were pure bliss and the moment his chevron tip was taken into a warm mouth like always, Prowl felt himself tightening against Jazz's impressive spike. He was already so close to his loss off ultimate control and Jazz seemed to know it. The tempo of his pleasure inducing thrusts was building, warming his systems from the inside so that he forgot he momentarily disorientation to his spark's pain and his body's pleasure.

"Three orns then Prowl," Jazz gasped softly, glossa teasing a delicate audial receiver and pressing further into the tight heat engulfing his entire spike. The tightness, the wetness - it was almost as if they had been made for each other and nothing could them apart besides the reach of Unicron when he beckoned them to their inevitable extinguish.

"B-but that is all I'm giving you, no more waiting." Jazz promised. The charge building through both of their systems and reflecting off of the hard-line that still connected them closer than ever before. It was a heady rush and where it started first Jazz wouldn't know but it soon engulfed them both in a roaring fire of bliss. An overload so harsh and so bright that his visor dimmed and his frame stiffened almost painfully. The screech of their plating was but a hollow silence compared to the howl that Prowl let loose. That perfect chassis bowing in a arch of pleasure and moulding their pleasured bliss into something more...

It was the ultimate, unadulterated bliss and when it felt so good now then how would it feel when they fully bonded? Neither of them were coherent enough to make an answer to the query. It was bliss, sorrow, pain and also spark deep love that flowed into the both of them.

An understanding that with the pain there was pleasure and with the pleasure there would always be pain...

It was a never ending cycle, just as their bodies would be craving for each other in a never ending pattern of want and desire. A desire for more than just the physical and so much more than what they possessed now. It was heady, saddening and promising all at once and they realized just what it was that was that they had together it was also a moment of absolute clarity. It was something most mechs lived without _ever_ experiencing - for in these modern times sparkmates were as rare as split spark twins, and as rare as those who still believed in Primus. It was an old folly, a folly that belonged to the stories of the Old Ones and a story that was rarely believed in that orn but they both knew there was no other explanation for what it was that they had...

Eternal Sparkmates...

They had truly made for one another...

0oooo00oooo0

Jazz was seated on the end of the berth where he had laid Prowl to rest; his fingers brushing gently against Prowl's chevron. His lip plates moved in gentle whispered promises as he talked to his exhausted beloved who was deep in recharge after an exhausting interface of intense pleasure and many promises. Jazz could do nothing more but curse the timing of Primus' ill fated humour, he was needed in the Prime's office and it wasn't for a social visit and Jazz knew that.

The Spec Ops Director knew that he had to leave even though he didn't want to do anything of the sort, there was no way around a direct summons from the Prime himself and if he did - Jazz was sure Prowl would be experiencing a logic crash again. Prowl was so peaceful when he was deep into his recharge cycle; that perpetual sorrow that he constantly displayed to his beloved Jazz was now hidden and for once he looked like the young mech that he truly was - only several vorns into his adult frame and with a brilliant but controlled processor that was so strategic that it could spell the victory for them if his talents were truly realized.

Jazz gave a decidedly sorrowful smile and pressed a chaste kiss to his love's helm and headed towards the door without a sound. Looking over his shoulder plates one more time in a loving gaze before his visor trained on the path ahead. He was a saboteur, spy, assassin and whatever Optimus Prime asked of him. He had no true job except training other's with his skills and doing the jobs that the Prime did not like to dirty his servos with. He was the conductor of the war from the shadows and anyone who knew his name were right by it to fear for their lives if they ever met him. There were just some things that he was not quite ready yet to share with Prowl, thanking his beloved for the three orn grace period he had been given - it would help settle his spark and help him focus on his life outside of this all encompassing need to bond.

A nanoklik after his leaving, the warm and cosy berthroom was cold to the sleeping tactician without Jazz's presence and Prowl subtly curled deeper into the covers. Jazz knew nothing of it and continued onto the office that he had been summoned to; sure that it would be his doom and drag him away from the one mech that had stolen his spark for such a long time now. He wouldn't give Prowl up, wouldn't even consider it...

Even though he had other obligations, Jazz also had to follow - no matter how much he sought to make Prowl his only obligation and his love for Prowler his only protocol in his processors - he had to follow his Prime wherever he led him and that was sometimes into the reach of Unicron. That was the secret, he was willing to lay his life on the line so that Optimus Prime would have any sort of advantage to winning this war.

The door pinged open this time, instead of its quiet slide, as Jazz laid his servo on the imprint pad. Smiling smugly to himself, he could already guess just why visitors - even authorized ones - were announced every time they entered the office. This time Jazz was happy it was only Optimus' weary gaze that greeted him over a stack of customary datapads that Jazz was used to seeing on the Prime's desk. Glad for a second time that it was not an erotic Red Alert bent at such a beautiful angle in such an envious position.

"Ah see ya installed 'n 'lert at least." Jazz teased his commanding officer as he sauntered over to wall directly behind the Prime's desk, the place where he always stood as he received his 'missions'. He leaned against the wall, pulling up a pede in a relaxed position and folding his arms around against his spark chamber as he stayed in Prime's peripheral vision so that the larger mech knew he was still there. A sharp blue visor taking in the slight embarrassment that coloured the Prime's visible cheek plates, that reaction caused the saboteur to smile to himself. He had hit the nail on the helm with that statement.

"Y-yes." The answer was shaky but no less dignified and Jazz chuckled delightfully, enjoying Optimus Prime's flustered reaction to the statement and the implications of what it was that he had just said. Optimus Prime was an enigma in itself - a great leader with the humility that even the best of the soldiers of the Autobot Faction lacked and being more mech than he was High Priest to Prime.

It was one of the only reasons why Jazz followed Optimus as a true Prime and _only_ him. The slightly bored saboteur leaned his helm back against the wall and offline his visor, his unseeing optics - a perpetual black - just as they had been rendered on one of his first missions, seeing nothing but his sensor net was tingling with Optimus' quiet reserve and clear pulses of concern and self distaste. In those wide sphere of emotions, Jazz knew that something had gone wrong and he was going to be the one that was going to be doing the cleaning up. It wasn't a wrong assumption at all.

"Jazz I called you here because there has been trouble in the underground ranks in Polihex." Optimus deep baritone drifted through the air clearly and Jazz shivered, it was such a powerful voice that was filled with compassion and the sorrow that laced it wasn't uncommon but the way that Optimus had said those last seven words, he knew something was coming that he wasn't goin to like. A tone like that never spelt anything good for him and Jazz let out a vent of frustration, visor dimming as he leant his helm back against the wall with frustration.

"Ya're askin' fer an assassination Prime or an infiltration?" Jazz asked defeated. When there was no answer he tilted his helm and turned his attention to the Prime sitting so regally in his chair. " A council member right? Givin' sympathy ta the Decepticons? Or is it a high ranking Autobot officer illegally providing sensitive information?" Jazz growled his guesses lowly. If it had been a simple job, it would have meant that one of his lower ranking spies would have been called for the job but it had been him instead. With a summons like this, Jazz knew that not even Mirage was going to be qualified enough to do this one. So naturally it would fall to his shoulder plates, Cybertron's best silent assassinator and legendary saboteur. Oh how he hated this part of himself, the part that could so easily cut himself off from his conscience and what made him _him_. It was a frightening concept to his programming that often scared him more than the missions that he was given.

"You know how I hate death in any sense," Optimus Prime pointed out softly and Jazz tilted his helm in acknowledgement. "But I'm afraid it's the former Jazz. Very sensitive information has been leaked and have been for more than six vorns. It's time it was put to a stop, so the former to your earlier question too. There is no need for infiltration." That was as far of an answer as Jazz was going to get, and the tired saboteur vented his second sigh in a few kliks. This was getting tiring, the leaving and the coming back. Sometimes he was pushed to become the darkness in a mission and once again, he was returning to the darkness' embrace and leaving his lover to do what Unicron required of him. Become a assassin for a cause...

Sacrifice one but save thousands...

That was little cancelation to his thoughts but Jazz understood, knew that he needed to do this so he nodded his helm.

"Death is bu' a neces'ary evil." Jazz spoke softly. Pushing himself away from the wall to stand in front of Optimus instead. "This 's _war_ Optimus, 'nd Ah'm yer best assassinator. Ah understand the necessity of this action, in fact Ah should 'ave spotted it m'self." Jazz pointed out, his servos falling against his side and clenching at his sides. The claw like servos were sharp against his palm when he tilted his helm back, philosophically in search of the answers to the Cybertron's mysteries on the light orange ceiling.

"The mech in question was responsible for the destruction of Praxus." Optimus infirmed his TIC quietly and Jazz flinched internally, knowing this was not going to be an easy get and get out mission - the darkness of the action was more justified than Jazz would like - in fact it was justified enough that he would enjoy seeing the life draining from the mech's greying form.

He nodded once in acceptance and turned to the door.

"Base Delta 52." Optimus countered against and Jazz stilled in his short walk towards the doors. Bringing up a servo he rubbed at his optic ridge to calm his systems, a heavy processor ache was building behind his optics and he knew that it had nothing to do with his intense session with Prowl a few joors before. No it was an ache for a different reason.

"Ya don' spare meh any stops do ya?" Jazz chuckled brokenly. That was one of the Autobot's most fortified bases, deep underground in Polihex. It was definitely not the easiest to sneak into - commit murder - and get out unscathed. Prowl was not going to be happy when Jazz had to leave him for those last few orns of the three he had been promised and come back injured as well. Peering over his shoulder, Jazz gave a curt nod of understanding, but held the guilty gaze of his commander a little longer than necessary. He knew how much it affected Optimus to even call Jazz in for something like this - especially now that he knew Jazz was due to be bonded to his sparkmate soon. Given a watery smile in return he stopped just in front of the office doors, his fore helm leaning against the cool metal to stop the throbbing ache as his shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of another life that would be extinguished by his servos.

"Ah don' like this Optimus," Jazz told the Prime straight off. "but Ah'll do it, only 'f ya consider makin' Prowler yer Head Tactician. He's goo' Prime, in fact his statistics are bett'r tha' any we 'ave had 'ver 'fore. With the Praxus gone now, he's the 'nly tactician' lef' of our side." Jazz pointed out calmly, he didn't see Optimus nod but he felt the consent in the air. The saboteur gave another watery smile, he had no more questions. He knew everythin by instinct - didn't even need to ask for the name. But there was one more question, one he usually didn't want an answer to but now that he had Prowl it was vital.

"When?"

"As soon as possible." Jazz bit his bottom lip plate and nodded once again - understanding the urgency of the matter.

"Ah'll leave in a joor. 'Ave the transport ready. Three orns Prime, no more." Jazz said brusquely and finally left through the open door. These were the times where he hated his job more than most, he wouldn't even get the time to say a proper goodbye except type out a quick message on a datapad and leave it with Prowl to read later. It was a difficult job he had to but even he understood why it had to be done, they could not risk another city as they had risked Praxus with that information leak. It was inevitable that his duty called once more but Jazz was ready for it, it would only take him two orns at most to get there and back, three orns just encase he was injured on the job.

_'And twelve orns shall be yours with your bondmate afterward.'_ The Prime's last, almost unspoken words were ringing in his mind and settled deep in his spark as he made his towards his quarters. Jazz had to time everything perfectly and he only had several joors before he was to be sneaking into his own faction's base, a fortified base, without nomech knowing it or spotting him on the way in. It was not ideal but it was one of the better jobs he had gotten, at least it wasn't an infiltration mission into one of the Decepticon bases. That could take vorns, sometimes metacycles if he was lucky enough to gather what he needed before hand.

_'Keep safe mah beloved, Ah'll be back for ya.'_

0oooo00oooo0

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Thanks for reading and please leave me a review! I would really appreciate that! Thank you for all of those who read and enjoy this story there will be a lot more to come and a separate story with Ratchet x Wheeljack as well, it won't be so long until it is published.

Thanks again.

Your Humble Servant

DF


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